


Roaring Regular

by colorflames



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Office, CEO!Seungcheol, D/s, Dd/lb, Eventual Smut, Flirting, Fluff, Holding Hands, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pet Names, Pet Play, Romance, Student!Jeonghan, Sugar Daddy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, baby!Jeonghan, daddy!Seungcheol, dom!seungcheol, extreme fluff, sub!jeonghan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2019-09-23 10:38:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17078762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorflames/pseuds/colorflames
Summary: Yoon Jeonghan, a broke and ambitious college student, encounters Choi Seungcheol, a rich and charismatic CEO. Basically, your typical sugar daddy fic. Emphasis on daddy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> it’s been ages since i had last written something, so i would like to kickstart my new journey with a cliché and fluffy piece that requires little to moderate effort in getting back into the swing of writing. enjoy!

Yoon Jeonghan’s days were studded with soggy instant noodles, an overload of caffeine, stacks of fraying and heavy textbooks, and constant exhaustion. As a college student, his life revolved around surviving a hectic schedule with the utilization of the easiest methods possible to sustain his unhealthy lifestyle. Coffee was his best friend, and in order to compensate for the perennial, lackluster blur of his studying and non-academic activities, he was adventurous with his coffee choices. Today warranted a caramel Frappuccino with an extra helping of whipped cream on top, a complete opposite of the strongest and most bitter black coffee he had yesterday.

As he sipped on his drink on his way to class, a pounding headache began to appear. He hadn’t eaten a proper meal in almost a week, so subsisting mostly on MSG-laden noodles would certainly have its consequences. He couldn’t afford the time, effort, and money to cook himself a decent meal, what with his busy agenda and the meager budget he was living on. At the start of his college life, opting to sacrifice his optimal health and wellbeing for a speedily gained degree seemed like an excellent decision. But now, he was regretting it a bit.

The classroom was boisterous and teeming with people, which was the last thing Jeonghan needed. Briskly and frowning, he made his way to the very front, where he could concentrate without the perpetual talking of drugged students in pointless conversations. His close friend, Jeon Wonwoo, a slender man in possession of a heavy voice, had saved him a seat.

“Thanks,” he muttered, slamming his cup on the desk before sitting down with a huff.

Wonwoo glanced at him with a slightly amused smile on his lips. He gave Jeonghan a bit of a breathing room while he observed him through a pair of round, thick glasses and a cloud of dark permed hair shading his eyes.  “You look like shit, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan emanated a dry laugh. “Thank you for the compliment. That’s exactly what I was going for.”

“I don’t know how many times I need to tell you,” Wonwoo said, flipping through the pages of his textbook with a tut. “You need to take better care of yourself. At this rate, you’ll die soon, and you won’t get to be a teacher.”

“I’ll fix things when the time comes,” Jeonghan brushed off. He knew that Wonwoo knew perfectly well how his situation was, but this display of concern was still something Jeonghan silently and deeply appreciated. “Don’t worry about me.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow and looked up from his textbook, his eyes voicing his disapproval. “Stop saying that. I’m the only friend you’ve got. Who else is going to worry about you?”

Just then, the lecturer entered the classroom, and immediate silence fell upon the students. Jeonghan heaved a sigh of relief, not because the class was officially starting, but because he could avoid answering Wonwoo’s question. Truthfully, he had no idea who else was going to fret at him and pay attention to his condition like Wonwoo did. He could not recall anyone else in his life with whom he shared confidence and closeness. This incognizance only emphasized the fact that he was, after nearly three years of college, alone. Alone and very much lonely.

Jeonghan didn’t want to be aware of that.

Jeonghan never wanted to be aware of that.

 

* * *

 

After class, Wonwoo berated Jeonghan for another ten minutes for his abominable lifestyle. Jeonghan tuned out after the first ten seconds. When they were descending the building’s front steps, Wonwoo finally decided he had had enough of the subject and switched to another topic.

“I brought my car today,” he started. “Want me to drop you off at the café?”

Jeonghan curved up his first smile for the day and nodded gratefully. “Yeah, that’d be great. Is it all fixed now?”

Wonwoo shook his head with a sigh, taking out his keys from his pocket and leading the way towards the parking lot. “It works okay, but there’s still a lot of noise and sudden stops. I haven’t found a decent car repair shop for it.”

“Oh, I know one!” Jeonghan exclaimed. “One of my café regulars owns one. I’ll ask him the address and give it to you.”

Wonwoo’s happy cheer recovered Jeonghan’s mood. In the car, they rode with carefree laughter and unashamed singing, banging their heads to Wonwoo’s favorite playlist and clapping their hands excitedly when several particular songs came on. It was moments like these which Jeonghan cherished. Wonwoo and him had been friends since early high school, and albeit they currently majored in different courses and rarely saw each other except for the one class they shared, they remained amiable and tight-knit and acted as if there were no absence separating them whenever they met.

The café where Jeonghan worked at was about a fifteen minutes’ ride away from campus, at a corner of two intersecting streets. It consisted of a single vast space panelled with polished wood in various brown and black shades. Strings of muted fairy lights and simplistic paper lanterns were strung on the ceiling, basking the room with a warm, golden glow. Below them were an ensemble of green tea-colored furniture, plush and welcoming, seating dozens of chattering customers happily guzzling their cups and mugs. The tranquil, laid-back ambience was palpable the minute one stepped inside the café.

That was exactly what Jeonghan recognized when he entered. He had been a part-time barista here for eight months, yet he was never uninterested by how the café succeeded in emanating such a wonderful atmosphere. He strived to live up to the aesthetic and expectation by providing a gracious, favorable service, which was not that difficult to do. His enjoyment and fondness for the place and the job ensured that he always greeted everyone with bright eyes and a broad smile, and today was no different.

As he concocted all the beverages with ease and expertise, he sensed his headache disappearing. Making coffee was a stress reliever for him, something he definitely needed in his onerous collegian life. He was on his third hour, forty fourth cup, and immensely good disposition when Kim Mingyu came in.

“Jeonghan!” he greeted loudly. It was always a loud greeting when it came to Mingyu. He was tall, tanned, talkative, and energetic, his eyes shining with joy and a hint of tiredness, his hair a ruffled mess of brown. He had been a regular at the café since long before Jeonghan joined, but he decided that Jeonghan was his favorite barista and always chatted with him whenever he stopped by.

“Mingyu!” Jeonghan responded, flashing him a smile and making his way to the cashier right away. “What will it be for today?”

“A large hot cappuccino to go, please,” Mingyu said, smiling even wider. “It’s good to see you! You’re doing well, right?”

“Of course, Gyu,” came Jeonghan’s dishonest and automatic reply. “Are you doing okay?” He made a frown as he grabbed a plastic cup. “You don’t look so hot.”

Mingyu let out a deep sigh and ran his fingers through his hair, something he did whenever he was frustrated. “No, I feel like shit. Lots of things are happening and they’re really stressing me out. My car shop is flooding with orders and I’m trying my best to keep up. My personal assistant stint is a 24/7 prison. Not to mention, there’s this faculty thing that I have to attend every single morning for the rest of the semester.” He groaned and closed his eyes. “Fuck my life.”

Jeonghan winced. Mingyu had it worse than him. “God, that sounds stressful. Not sure if this is going to help you, but my friend is looking for a decent car shop and I suggested yours to him.” He smiled hopefully. “I hope you can squeeze in an extra order?”

Mingyu nodded and opened his eyes, managing a smile of his own. “Sure, sure. Anything for Yoon Jeonghan. Where’s your phone? I’ll type the address for you.”

Jeonghan handed him his phone, and while Mingyu was keying in the address, he made his cappuccino and slid it to him on the countertop when it was done. “I’m really sorry about your schedule, Mingyu. Do you want to destress and talk about it some more? I can use some company, as always.” He didn’t want to sound that desperate, but he admitted that Mingyu was a great talker, and his jokes made Jeonghan laugh all the time. He could use a laugh right now to ease himself.

With another sigh, Mingyu put the phone down and shook his head regretfully. “Sorry, Han, but I’m on a rush. My boss is really strict when it comes to being on time.” He extended a hand towards his cup, but suddenly halted midway. Jeonghan raised a brow.

“Gyu? Something wrong?”

Mingyu remained silent, seemingly thinking as his eyes froze on the wooden countertop. For a moment, Jeonghan thought that he was having a weird type of heart attack. Then, he instantly looked up at Jeonghan, his entire face lighting up.

“I know how I can possibly destress!”

“Oh, really?” Jeonghan questioned, instantly intrigued. “How?”

“You can help me! You can cover for me every morning at my office while I’m at the faculty event!” he gushed, waving his hands in excitement. “It’s just for a few hours, and you don’t have to do anything that demanding. Your classes all start around midday, right? My event finishes around that time. It’s perfect!”

Jeonghan blinked. He definitely didn’t expect this. His immediate reaction was, no doubt, to reject it. Yes, all his classes started later and he had his mornings free, but that didn’t mean it was any less taxing. However, this was quickly followed by the instinctive tug on his chest to help. He considered Mingyu a friend, made by dozens of coffee orders and frequent chats over the counter, and friends help each other.

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” Jeonghan agreed with a smile. “I’ll help you, sure. Anything for Kim Mingyu.”

Mingyu cheered and nearly knocked his cup over when he lifted his arms in celebration. “Great! That’s great! Thanks so much, Han! God, you’re a real life saver. Here, I’ll give you my number and text you all the details.” He reached for Jeonghan’s phone and typed in his number.

Jeonghan hummed in acknowledgement, and as he blankly stared at the man’s thumbs dancing on his phone screen, he could only think of what Wonwoo would say. Or rather, yell. After dealing with Mingyu’s profuse gratitude by shushing him and telling him to go, Mingyu left the café with a grin and a big wave of his hand.

As Jeonghan waved back, he wondered if he had just made the worst decision by helping a friend and endangering his own sanity.

 

* * *

 

For a replacement job that would last for months and end in the start of summer, Mingyu certainly had plenty of details to share with Jeonghan. However, instead of texting them like he said, he gave Jeonghan a call — a badly timed call. When Jeonghan saw Mingyu’s ID light up his phone screen, he had just finished a terrible discussion in class due to his group members not wanting to cooperate or put any effort into an assignment. As a result, Jeonghan barely listened to Mingyu’s words.

“I’m afraid you have to start out on the field right away,” Mingyu said. “My boss is going to speak at a seminar tomorrow. You can come at anytime you want as long as it’s before noon, since that’s when it will end. You’re okay with it being Saturday, right? I know you have no classes then, but I’ve got to finish orders for the car shop for Sunday. You can bring your books because Saturdays are supposed to be a bit loose. You’ve got no exams, right? Is this okay?”

There was silence before Jeonghan realized that Mingyu was waiting for an answer. “Oh. It’s okay, Gyu.”

“Terrific. I’ve sent you the location of the seminar. Just come there, watch him talk, meet him when he’s done, and a car will take you to the office. It’s closed, for sure, but he likes working on the weekends. Don’t worry, you only need to come in on Saturdays. Sundays are all yours. Ha, imagine how crazy it would be if Sunday were a workday!”

“Yeah, so crazy,” Jeonghan murmured. He was tired and disoriented. All he could think of was how bad his grade was going to be because he was stuck with lousy group mates who had starkly different work ethics. Anxiety crippled him, and he tried not to be fully paralyzed. “So, I just come anytime before noon, go with him to the office, sit nearby as he works, then go home?”

Mingyu agreed with a hum. “I’ve already told him that you’re gonna be me for a long while, and he’s okay with it as long as you can keep up. Remember, if you run into any trouble, contact me anytime.”

“Sure thing, Gyu.”

“Again, thanks for the help, Han. Oh, wait, I’m so silly, I haven’t even told you his name! It’s Choi Seungcheol. Now, I won’t keep you any longer. Good luck for tomorrow! Good luck for your classes! See you!”

Mingyu hung up without an answer. Jeonghan heaved a sigh as he pulled the phone back from his ear. Mingyu was a great talker, but he wasn’t that sensitive. He turned up Wonwoo’s number so he could talk to him about what happened in class, but his finger merely hovered above the screen. He thought better of it. What good did it do to drown in sorrow when he could just suck it up and make coffee to forget about it all?

Jeonghan switched off his phone. Burdens were best kept alone. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little introduction to the fic! the following chapters will be fluff, fluff, fluff all over. do stay tuned!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the late update! i’ve been out of town for christmas vacation, but i’ve finally found the time to write! thank you so much for all the support you’ve shown for the previous chapter — it truly means a lot and i appreciate it so tremendously! enjoy this chapter, loves ❤️

Jeonghan liked to be well-prepared. He never wanted to be caught unawares or be incapable of something that require the utmost attention and effort from him. For him, that was a sign of incompetence, of defeat, of failure. So, if he were to walk in to a high-profile corporate job without any existing knowledge about it, he would consider himself committing a dreadful suicide.

That was why on Friday evening, Jeonghan was preparing himself for a deep research on his newly acquired job. After studying for a series of quizzes for the following week, he tidied the books into a corner of his one-room apartment, due to the absence of shelves. He attempted to fix the turbulent Wi-fi connection for a smooth traverse on the internet, but his intelligence apparently didn’t extend to technology. Finally, he took a seat on a fraying bean bag in the center of the messy room, his laptop perched on his lap, and began typing in the keywords.

He should have prepared himself a whole lot more.

He had expected Mingyu’s boss to be a senior man with wrinkled skin, graying hair, and frail limbs, probably pushing fifty or sixty. It turned out to be the exact opposite. Choi Seungcheol turned out to be young and one of the most, if not the _very_ most, attractive men he had ever seen. The first glance towards his pictures made Jeonghan gasp aloud, and further scrolling made his jaw drop and his eyes widen in pure admiration.

Choi Seungcheol possessed round eyes, a high nose, slightly chubby cheeks, thick lips, and a sharp jawline. His hair style varied throughout the years, but currently he sported black hair with bangs arranged to partially cover his forehead. His skin was so pale, the palest Jeonghan had ever seen. He had tall stature, broad shoulders, and — Jeonghan’s personal favorite — large, bulging biceps. He was twenty-seven, seven years older than Jeonghan. Jeonghan spent a good twenty minutes being engrossed in his pictures which showed up on the search engine, and another twenty minutes on his Instagram feed.

Seungcheol seemed to be quite the traveller. He posed before storefronts in Tokyo, silver skyscrapers in New York City, ancient marble buildings in Rome, and on golden coasts and foamy waves in the Maldives. He hiked rocky mountains, boarded down valleys blanketed with snow, and visited remote islands filled with majestic natural beauty. All of this was possible mostly due to his line of work.

Seungcheol was the founder and CEO of a sophisticated sports car company. Ardoin was a newcomer in the automotive industry, but in just a couple of years, it  had transformed into one of the frontrunners in the game. The brand boasted five different car models which shared the trademark features of a sleek body, a high range of speed, and unmatched engine efficiency. Ardoin was surrounded by intense hype — people raved over how the cars were high-tech marvels, with their slew of innovative elements; how each model was a unique and luxurious creation, a perfect fit for the world’s wealthiest and most notorious; how the entire brand was the unanimously agreed face of modern technology and advancement.

All of this was possible mostly due to Choi Seungcheol.

Jeonghan gulped as he distanced himself from the laptop screen. He wouldn’t be dealing with a mere handsome CEO. He would be dealing with an accomplished genius, a master of business and industrial science, a breaker of countless records and a personage  worshipped by the public. He would be on his hand and foot until summer came, answering all his commands, catering to his every needs, and staying on his radar every moment of every day.

It made Jeonghan a bit dizzy, a lot nervous, and much, much excited.

 

* * *

  

The mere idea of Seungcheol had enraptured Jeonghan remarkably. He spent the night fantasizing of himself and the unknown man, conjuring a perfect romantic scenario of their first meeting in lieu of proper sleep. In his mind, he had strode towards Seungcheol in confidence, instantly charming him with his wit and brightness. Seungcheol, of course, fell for him right away. They would be immersed in a lively conversation for hours on end, and they would lengthen their chemistry by having dinner somewhere. Seungcheol was a gentleman, so he would walk him home to his apartment and give him a sweet parting kiss in the doorway.

Every envisioning of this was always followed by the bitter after-thought that it was as far away from reality as possible. It was just pure imagination. Jeonghan knew that Seungcheol was way, way out of his league. How could someone as wealthy and distinguished as Seungcheol be attracted to an unattractive and nugatory college student like Jeonghan? He wouldn’t spare Jeonghan a glance if the latter weren’t his personal assistant. He wouldn’t even notice him. Jeonghan would be nothing more than a speck of dust in his eyes.

This broke Jeonghan’s heart, but not his spirits. He could still be physically near Seungcheol. He could still admire him, talk to him, make sure he had everything he needed and wanted. He could get to know him more, certainly not as lovers, but as an apprentice learning from one of the world’s most successful men. Knowing Seungcheol up close would be one hell of a privilege, and Jeonghan wouldn’t think of wasting it.

When he arrived at the venue of the seminar, his heart was doing its most laborious work. Anxiety had taken a firm hold of him, and his mind was buzzing with _oh my God I’m here he’s here he’s gonna show up at any moment and I’m gonna talk to him oh my God_. He tried to loosen up by distracting himself with the opulence surrounding him — the velvet walls and carpets in gold and soft coral, the gently swaying crystal chandelier overhead, the colossal stage lavishly decorated with marble — but it was to no avail. His heart was still racing in his ribcage, and he both dreaded and looked forward to his encounter with Choi Seungcheol.

The universe was on his side, because he didn’t have to wait long to see Seungcheol in the flesh. The audience broke into a roar of applause when he ascended the stage, and Jeonghan swore his heart stopped beating for about five seconds when his eyes laid on him.

Seungcheol was much buffer than the pictures suggested. His unmistakably toned muscles rippled underneath the fabric of his fitted cerulean blue suit. He walked to center stage with ease and confidence, then threw a dazzling smile to the crowd. Enthusiasm was visible on his face, and in his blatant expression there were utter joy and satisfaction in commanding the attention of everyone in the room.

“Good day, ladies and gentlemen,” he began, and Jeonghan swooned. His voice was an unexpected deep baritone, a contrast to the soft features of his countenance. As he spoke, his gaze was both fleeting and unshakeable: He ensured to sweep along the faces of all people, yet made stable eye contact with each person for a few precious seconds. His back was fully straight, his stance was wide and solid, and his hands moved in flawless precision to the smooth rhythm of his speech. All his halts and inflections were calculated so that each person hung to his every word, curious and helpless to listen more and more.

Jeonghan could listen to him talk forever.

The way Seungcheol carried himself was magnetic to Jeonghan. It was how he was so sure of himself, how he expertly captivated everyone. Jeonghan knew he was one of the many people who were mesmerized by the man’s presentation. When it was finished and Seungcheol disappeared after a more boisterous round of applause, he jogged backstage, his breath hitching and his heart thundering in his chest.

After asking around, he finally located Seungcheol’s dressing room. He stalled abruptly in front of the closed door, gathering his nonexistent poise. His hand was now filmed with sweat as it was tightly clutching a plastic bag containing a box of glazed donuts and a cup of steaming black coffee. He had religiously inspected Seungcheol’s feed for favorite items he could present as a gift of greeting, and this was his best conclusion.

He was inches away from the man of his dreams, and he felt like he was going to die.

But, Jeonghan steeled himself. He wouldn’t be Yoon Jeonghan if he chickened out. With a sharp intake of air, he raised his free hand and knocked on the door.

When it swung open, it was as if time had stopped.

Choi Seungcheol was there and divine and beautiful. His hair was slightly ruffled, the few top buttons of his shirt were popped, and his red lips were parted for a welcome message that had dissipated into thin air. Beads of perspiration were on his exposed forehead. He towered over Jeonghan only by a few slight inches, but it was clear that he was much bigger than him. He exuded an intoxicating musk of sandalwood that made Jeonghan’s skin tingle.

Having expected this moment, Jeonghan recovered soon enough to keenly examine the man before him. He was pale, but his cheeks were a bit red because of the heat of the weather. The visible part of his chest was dotted with short, coarse hair. Seungcheol’s dark brown eyes were arrested to him, and if he were not mistaken…  did he detect wonder in them?

“H-Hello,” Jeonghan croaked. He mentally cursed himself. He was never talented at meeting new people and making striking first impressions. His fantasy was certainly never coming true. “I’m Yoon Jeonghan, your new personal assistant. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Choi.”

A second later, Seungcheol came out of his stupor. His lips curved up into an amiable smile — a smile that took Jeonghan’s breath away — and he nodded. “Hello, Yoon Jeonghan. Mingyu’s told me all about you. But he didn’t mention the fact that you’re such a beauty.”

Blush crept up immediately to Jeonghan’s cheeks. So much for charming him with his wit and brightness. A simple short praise had turned him into a tomato. “I- Thank you, Mr. Choi, but I’m no beauty.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” Seungcheol said, his smile broadening. “I’m never stunned when I meet new people. This is a first. All because of you.”

Jeonghan’s cheeks heated up even more. “Well, I… uhm…” Not knowing what to say, he looked down at his feet, trying to calm down his mind and his heart, but he had no strength or ability to do so.

A chuckle escaped Seungcheol’s lips. “I’m sorry, Jeonghan. Did I make you uncomfortable? Am I too forward?”

Jeonghan’s head shot up right away, his eyes widening in surprise. “No! No, of course not, you were perfect, Mr. Choi. You’re perfect.” He paused before scrambling to fix his mistake. “Wait — I mean, you — your presentation! At the seminar. Yes. Your presentation. It was perfect.”

Seungcheol’s chuckle turned into a laugh, and it was a pleasant sound. His voice raised an octave when he did so — a cheery, airy laugh. “Thank you, Jeonghan. Please, do come in.”

He stepped aside, making room for Jeonghan to enter. The dressing room was big and tidy, and those were the only things about the room that he could note because his mind was all a chaotic mess of _SEUNGCHEOL! SEUNGCHEOL! SEUNGCHEOL!_

“I hope you don’t mind that we must leave right away,” Seungcheol said before Jeonghan could think of a conversation opener. “I would like to get a few things done at the office. Has Mingyu told you about my schedule and my current affairs?”

At the mention of this, Jeonghan perked up. This was familiar ground, this was something he had studied so vigorously as if it were one of his college exams, and he knew he aced it. “Yes, sir. I’ve already arranged the time slots for all your meetings next week and created a template for the employee evaluation reports.”

Seungcheol blinked in surprise. For a split second, Jeonghan feared that he had committed things that shouldn’t have been done, that he had possessed the wrong judgment and screwed up on the job before it even began, before the man’s face light up in glee.

“That’s amazing! Seriously. Thank you for doing so. Those were supposed to be finalized on Monday, but you went ahead. I truly appreciate that.” Seungcheol flashed him another radiant smile, and Jeonghan felt a rush of pride and bashfulness through him.

“It’s nothing, sir,” he responded. “Just doing my job.”

Seungcheol clicked his tongue. “It’s not nothing, Jeonghan. You took the initiative. Therefore, you deserve to be praised. When you work with me and keep that up, you have to get used to praises.”

Color returned to Jeonghan’s cheeks. “I- Alright, sir. Thank you for the praise.”

Nodding, Seungcheol grabbed all of his things — wallet, a tablet, two mobile phones, and wireless earbuds — and stuffed them into a black leather bag. “Let’s go. The car’s outside.”

As they walked down the hallway and out of the building, Jeonghan could sense Seungcheol’s eyes focused on him. It only worsened the condition of his heart, but he had to admit that he enjoyed the attention. Having an esteemed businessman interested ( _mildly, very mildly_ ) in you could only happen once.

“What do your friends call you, Jeonghan?” Seungcheol asked out of the blue.

Jeonghan turned his head to him, catching a view of his dashing side profile. “Han, sir. Why?”

Seungcheol remained silent for a while before shaking his head and looking at him. “I just think that I should call you by that as well, if you don’t mind. We’re going to work closely together, after all.”

A smile rose to Jeonghan’s lips. He liked that. The nickname would close the distance between them. It was a start. “I don’t mind at all, Mr. Choi. But please know that you can call me anything you want.”

Seungcheol didn’t say anything for a moment, transfixed at Jeonghan’s features, most likely his smile. “Anything, hm? I’ll think about it as we go. For now, it’s Han.”

“Alright, Mr. Choi.”

As they stepped out of the lobby, a gleaming black limousine pulled up. The chauffeur got out and hurriedly opened the door for Seungcheol, who slid in and said, “Han, do you have the paperwork on the budget of my latest project? I need to look into that.”

Jeonghan nodded immediately and followed Seungcheol. As he plopped down on the car seat, his knee brushed against the plastic bag he had been carrying, and he cursed himself for the second time that day. Idiot. How could he forget his gift? “Yes, Mr. Choi. But, before that, I was — uhm, I got you these.”

Seungcheol peered at him curiously as Jeonghan unveiled the box and the coffee cup from the bag. “I found out that you like glazed donuts and black coffee a lot,” he softly spoke with a timid smile, “So I got you these as a gift for our first meeting. I really hope you like these, Mr. Choi.”

The expression Seungcheol wore was that of pure surprise. Jeonghan watched as his features gradually contorted to another smile, another draw of his beautiful lips, another glint of happiness in his eyes, and Jeonghan had never seen anything more magnificent in his life.

“Yoon Jeonghan…” Seungcheol leaned closer to him, shaking his head in pleasant disbelief. The smell of sandalwood filled Jeonghan’s nostrils, his fingers trembled around the box, and he awaited his words with trepidation.

“… Has anyone ever told you that you’re an angel?”

Jeonghan’s heart dropped from its spot in his chest. His cheeks were flaming. His fingers shook terribly. He stuttered, “N-No, I don’t think so, Mr. Choi.”

Seungcheol chuckled softly and took the coffee cup from his hand. “In that case, I’ll be the one to do so. Didn’t take long for me to figure out a nickname for you.” He lifted the cup in the air before taking a sip. “Here’s to you, angel.”

Yoon Jeonghan’s heart nearly exploded.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a quick question for you all: would you like the story to alternate between jeonghan’s and seungcheol’s standpoint or do you think focusing only on jeonghan’s standpoint is better? i was thinking of writing seungcheol’s side of the story for the next chapter, but let me know what you think in the comments! thank you again! merry christmas and happy new year to you all ❤️


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after popular vote and much consideration, i’ve decided to incorporate seungcheol’s standpoint! enjoy!

Choi Seungcheol could not believe his good fortune. He had scored a stunningly handsome — and seriously adorable — personal assistant.

Yoon Jeonghan for sure looked like the angel he was. Fluffy ice blonde hair, rogue cheeks and lips, hypnotizing eyes, a lithe figure, all displayed with such effortless grace. The way he moved, smiled, and talked was sweet, pleasant, and underlined with bashfulness. And his laugh! Seungcheol said a lame pun a moment before, and the angel burst into a resonant chortle. It was the greatest sound Seungcheol had ever heard.

What enchanted him the most, however, was Jeonghan’s efforts. The donuts and coffee he had gifted him was an evidence of his attention and generosity, and Seungcheol was much grateful for it, especially since he hadn’t had breakfast. The extensive professional work that he had done — arranging time slots, composing spreadsheets, refining notes and reports to a neat, cohesive structure — was correct, unsolicited, and immaculate. Hell, it was much better than what Mingyu’s months-long contribution by a long shot. This showcased how hardworking and dedicated Jeonghan was to this post, albeit it was only temporary.

Temporary. Seungcheol tried not to think of that.

“I’ll create a draft of the project’s contract once we’re at the office, Mr. Choi. Also, you still need to review the engineers’ prototype for the latest car model. I’ve scheduled your visit to the workshop on Tuesday morning.” Jeonghan glanced at him from the phone Seungcheol had given him specially for work purposes. “Do you want me to go with you there? If not, I can stay behind and prepare for your noon meeting with the board members.”

Seungcheol looked into his eyes. They were a deep, rich dark brown, beautiful as they were captivating. “Noon meeting? Are we going to lunch at a restaurant?”

Jeonghan nodded, his cheeks slightly tinted from being under Seungcheol’s intense gaze. “I’ve reserved a table at the Four Seasons. And… it isn’t we, sir. It’s only you and the board members. I won’t be joining you.”

“What a shame,” Seungcheol tutted. They had only been sharing a quick car ride, yet he was so comfortable with Jeonghan’s presence that he was certain having him around constantly wouldn’t be terrible at all. “We should go to lunch at another time, then. By we, I mean you and I.”

As expected, warm red burst through Jeonghan’s cheeks. But, instead of becoming shy and muttering something unintelligible, he confidently replied, “Do you always flirt with your personal assistants, Mr. Choi?”

This sudden exhibit of boldness surprised Seungcheol, but he welcomed it. He had suspected that Jeonghan was more than just a timid character, more than what first met his eye. “No,” he answered with a bright smile. “Just you, angel.”

Jeonghan processed the answer with widened eyes and a beautiful smile, and Seungcheol knew that he was just a little bit falling.

A few minutes later, they arrived at the office. However, it wasn’t an office, per se. Jeonghan expressed it best: “Mr. Choi, I didn’t know you would have _more_ than one office!”

Ardoin’s headquarters was a vast complex of five towering skyscrapers which glittered under the hot beams of the March sun. Interspersed between them were spotless gardens that were home to beds of vibrant flowers and elaborate topiaries in diverse shapes and sizes. The entrance to the grounds was a gargantuan gateway made out of pure silver, pridefully festooned with the Ardoin logo. From there, the concrete path wound through a collection of marble statues of Roman gods in debonair poses and fountains equipped with mood lighting, jetting out water in blue, purple, pink, and orange.

Seungcheol explained all of this to Jeonghan while pointing out the window. He slipped in minor details, such as “All these gods aren’t just for show; they relate to speed, power, protection, all you need in the car business” and “I designed the gardens myself, I’ve always liked seeing greenery.” He could feel Jeonghan hanging on to his every word, and he loved having such an intensive listener.

The path ended at the entrance of the main building, the largest of the others. They exited the car and entered the structure. The inside was the definition of ultra modern: The floor-to-ceiling walls were glass, except for a few sections where it was a textured black. The tiles were reflective, changing into different shades of grey every hour. The sofas, chairs, and tables in the lobby were of ivory white, maintaining the minimalist aesthetic of the design.

“This is the coolest place I’ve ever been in,” Jeonghan said breathlessly, hungrily taking in the surroundings.

“Oh, this is nothing,” waved Seungcheol. “Wait till you see my office.”

Seungcheol’s office was on the fortieth floor, and it was the biggest space, taking more than half of the building floor. It was shaped in a crescent, with glass walls boasting the magical view of the Seoul skyline on one side, and tinted glass beside the double doors on the other. It was organized and pristine, with a clean, white working desk housing two computers with paper-thin monitors and plastic trays of paperwork, several black lounge chairs and sofas with monochrome cushions, and a black glass coffee table with a vase of orchids and an ashtray. All of these sat on top of gray carpeted floor that was snug and soundproof.

“I’m in heaven,” Jeonghan said dreamily as he stepped in.

Seungcheol laughed. “That’s fitting since you’re an angel.”

“Please, Mr. Choi, you make me blush every time you call me that,” Jeonghan complained with a pout on his lips. He looked even cuter that way.

“I like seeing you blush, so you just have to deal with it,” Seungcheol said mischievously. “Anyway, your table is right outside, by my door. You can do your work there, but if you need to consult anything with me, feel free to come in here.”

Jeonghan met his eyes, tilting his head. “Just when I need to confirm things with you? Not when I want to see your handsome face?”

Seungcheol was, for a moment, speechless. Pleasantly so. “Well, incorrect. You can admire me anytime you want, angel. Keep the door open so I can do the same to you.”

Jeonghan giggled, and Seungcheol felt his heart skip a beat. “Okay, Mr. Choi. Please work well! Ring me in if you need anything.”

“Thank you. Will do, angel.”

Once Jeonghan retreated to his table, Seungcheol plopped himself onto the chair behind his desk. He allowed himself several minutes to compose his thoughts in silence. Jeonghan was great. Really great. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so at ease with someone. All the sweet compliments and witty phrases he had conjured had flowed so naturally. He hadn’t even thought to conceal his attraction to him. Every opportunity he got, he utilized it to let Jeonghan know how wonderful he was.

Was that a wrong thing?

Seungcheol didn’t know. His minimum experience in relationships was insufficient for an answer.

Instead of brooding over something that would drain all his mental energy, he decided to focus on his work first. There was a mountain of tasks to overcome, what with his being the CEO of one of South Korea’s top companies. However, he always relished the duty. Constructing technology through his ingenuity and imagination, discovering solutions to ever-existing problems, interacting with an assortment of people, and witnessing his company flourish were things that stimulated his lively and resolute mind. They were the ultimate source of his vindication and fulfillment.

As he executed one task after another, he found that the whole process was smoother and more productive because of Jeonghan. His early measures acted as a groundwork for Seungcheol to do his obligations in much less time than usual. A considerable amount on his to-do list was deemed irrelevant because Jeonghan had gotten it done first. Jeonghan even took the liberty of handling the social scope of his life, managing the invitations to balls and galas, logging the birthday wishes and gifts which needed to be sent out, and being in touch with the best designers and stylists for his public appearances, in the name of making Seungcheol’s life less stressful and more convenient.

Jeonghan’s big heart didn’t stop its courtesy at their first meeting. Once every hour, he came in to refill Seungcheol’s cup with steaming black coffee. It was accompanied with a plate of various snacks: cut up fruits, oatmeal cookies, more glazed donuts, and mini sandwiches. When Seungcheol informed him that he didn’t like to eat a lot and hadn’t even had lunch, Jeonghan threw up a fuss, admonishing him and insisting that eating was non-negotiable. He left the office with a huff and returned with the largest portion of rice and roasted chicken he could find, sitting in front of Seungcheol and not moving an inch until the latter finished it all.

All of this tugged strings in Seungcheol’s heart. Never in his life had he felt so taken care of. Throughout the years, most people in his career only cared about what he put out to the world, what creation of his benefited them, not his state of mind or well-being. His friends did care about him, but they were too involved in their own schedules to look after him so thoroughly. His retired parents were even busier than he was, doing charity work and dabbling in the art world abroad, so their form of contact was a series of phone calls at odd hours. But here was Jeonghan, physically here, giving him so much attention and care through the littlest yet most significant actions. Seungcheol spent most of his life under the public limelight, but it was only now that he felt truly, finally seen.

 

* * *

 

The clock read 11:44 P.M., but Jeonghan wasn’t budging from his seat. The door was ajar, and Seungcheol noticed him flipping through his worn college books while yawning quietly. He let out a sigh and moved his attention back to his monitor. The past thirty minutes was filled with them arguing: Seungcheol wanting Jeonghan to go home and rest and Jeonghan wanting to stay until Seungcheol was finished. Another trait of Jeonghan that he uncovered was that he was incredibly stubborn, which explained why he was not leaving the premises until Seungcheol did.

“Hannie,” he called out. The nickname had appeared out of the blue during their earlier talk, and he knew Jeonghan liked it a lot. He tried again. “Angel, please go home.”

“I don’t want to,” Jeonghan refused. He swiveled on his chair to face Seungcheol and flashed him an adorable pout. “I’m here to help you.”

“Trust me, angel, it’s all taken care of now.”

“Just in case! I’m studying, anyway. I’m using time wisely. Now please focus on your work, Mr. Choi.”

Seungcheol let out a small, inaudible chuckle. He couldn’t focus at all when his concern over Jeonghan shadowed everything. “What a stubborn angel. Where do you live, Hannie? I can give you a ride home.”

Jeonghan blinked in surprise. “Mr. Choi, there’s no need for — ”

“I insist,” Seungcheol cut off. He was adamant on this subject. Jeonghan had done so much for him, simplified so many things for him, that he wanted to do something in return. “It’s the least I can do for you. Now do answer my question.”

Jeonghan pouted again and sighed, conceding to his defeat. He named the address and added hastily, “It’s on the other side of the city. It’s very far away, Mr. Choi. I do appreciate your offer, but I don’t want to exhaust you any further. It’s the weekend and you’re supposed to be having fun, yet you’re working all day and — ” Jeonghan’s pout deepened, his brows furrowed, as if he were talking of a major catastrophe which had happened to a loved one. “I don’t want you to have any more burden than you already do.”

A comfortable warmth flooded Seungcheol’s chest. God, he didn’t deserve this angel. He had never met anyone with so much kindness and consideration. However, his heart hurt envisioning Jeonghan riding the subway so late at night, eyelids laced with sleep and limbs aching from hours of work, all alone and vulnerable. His protective instincts launched immediately.

“I also appreciate your thoughts, angel, but I’m not letting you leave my sight, especially at this time of night,” he said with an authoritative tone which nobody could deny. “We’ll leave in ten minutes.”

At five past twelve, Seungcheol and Jeonghan were tucked inside Seungcheol’s gold-white Ardoin vehicle, zooming through the near empty streets of Seoul. The former ensured Jeonghan’s convenience by purchasing a bag of _tteokbokki_ to fuel him during the long car ride.

“Thank you, Mr. Choi!” Jeonghan said in awe when Seungcheol handed the oil-filmed bag to him. “You didn’t get one for yourself?”

Seungcheol shook his head as he leaned back against the seat. “No, I’m good.”

“I’m not,” Jeonghan said, and before a confused Seungcheol could ask him why, a single _tteokbokki_ held aloft by a pair of wooden chopsticks was thrust right in front of his mouth. “Eat up, Mr. Choi!”

Seungcheol shook his head in amusement and obligingly ate it. “You’re trying to make me fat, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” giggled Jeonghan, withdrawing his chopsticks and having some _tteokbokki_ for himself. “Fat is good.”

“No, I won’t look so dashing anymore,” replied Seungcheol with a laugh.

“You will always look dashing no matter what,” Jeonghan said rather dreamily, his gaze pinned to Seungcheol’s side profile.

Seungcheol glanced at him and curved up a broad smile. Always the blatant one, he asked, “Is it strange that I feel so at ease around you? I’ve never felt this in place with anyone else.”

Jeonghan’s eyes brightened, and it was an expression Seungcheol could never forget. “I thought I was the only one! Though you did make my heart do somersaults at first.”

“Is that so?” The older man chuckled. “Did I make you nervous, angel?”

“Mhm, but it was a good kind of nervous.” Jeonghan darted his gaze around and smiled. “A week ago, I’d never thought I’d be in a fancy sports car driven by a multi-billionaire.”

Seungcheol burst into laughter. “Life has its ways.” He would forever thank the heavens which had orchestrated his meeting with Jeonghan. “So, what are you studying at uni, angel?”

“Education,” Jeonghan happily answered. “I want to be a teacher. A kindergarten teacher, to be exact.”

Seungcheol wasn’t surprised. “That’s noble of you. You’d totally fit the bill. You’re so thoughtful and sweet. Kids will love you.”

“Ah, I truly hope so,” responded Jeonghan, his cheeks coloring from the praise. “I’ve always adored kids so I thought it’d be a great job for me. I’m on my sixth semester, though, so it’s still a year or so before I can achieve it. What about you, Mr. Choi? What did you study?”

“Engineering and industrial science,” Seungcheol answered. “I studied those in college in the US. Before that, I was sent to boarding schools in England. My parents wanted me to be finely educated so I could be a lawyer. But I didn’t want that.”

Jeonghan scrunched his nose. “Do they approve of your career now?”

Seungcheol emanated a dry chuckle. “Now that I’m racking up money, sure. But when I first started, I wasn’t making anything and my many attempts failed. They said they were disappointed in me, that I was a busted investment they made.”

Jeonghan’s pained gasp pierced his ears. “That’s so cruel! You’re their son!”

“It’s nothing. My parents are just tough, that’s all,” he brushed off with a shrug. “I’m quite used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Jeonghan pressed. “Everyone needs love.”

 _Not me. Only those who deserve it._ But Seungcheol made a slow nod. “Mm. Enough about me, angel. Tell me more about you. How’s your family? Any siblings?”

Jeonghan nodded excitedly as he fed Seungcheol more _tteokbokki_. “Two younger sisters. One is in high school, and one in middle school. They’re really noisy, but I love them. What about you?”

“I’m an only child, but I have friends to make up for it,” answered the older through a mouthful of food.

“And you have me too!” Jeonghan raised his hand.

Seungcheol laughed. “Yes, I have you too, angel. I’m very happy to have you.”

Due to the barrenness of traffic and the natural high speed of the car, they reached their destination earlier than expected. Seungcheol mentally cursed himself. He should have gone slower so he could prolong the enjoyable conversation he had with Jeonghan, but a part of him didn’t want to keep the younger occupied for so long since he needed time to sleep and rest.

“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Choi,” Jeonghan said with a smile as he grabbed his things from the back seat. “I’m so grateful you went to all this trouble just to get me home.”

“Don’t mention it, angel,” uttered Seungcheol, mirroring his smile, though it was tinged with worry. “Are you sure you’re able to commute to the office every day when it’s so far away? It’ll be so tiring.”

Jeonghan nodded in confidence. “Yes, sir! I’ll just have to wake up extra early to avoid the morning rush hour.”

That didn’t sit well with Seungcheol. After his assistance job, Jeonghan still had to attend classes and study for God knows how many assignments and exams. Not to mention his half-day barista gig at that café near campus. Sooner or later, the weight of it all would take a toll on him, his health, and his peace of mind. He wanted to prevent that as much as possible.

“It’s not the best arrangement, Hannie. What if you move to my old apartment?” he suggested hopefully. “It’s unused and in the heart of the city. From there, your uni is right around the corner. Your café is only a few blocks away, too. You’ll be less strained.”

Jeonghan sat, quiet and contemplating. Seungcheol could sense the gears working in his mind, and to further convince him, he said, “You don’t have to wake up early as well. I’ll assign one of my drivers to you. He can get you to and from my office. For your classes and barista work, you can take a short walk. What do you say?”

With a bite of his lips, Jeonghan answered, “I say it’s so burdensome for you, Mr. Choi. Yes, it’s much efficient that way, but I can’t possibly accept that… I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

Hearing the words saddened Seungcheol. Couldn’t Yoon Jeonghan see how precious he was? How he deserved so much more? Seungcheol was willing to give anything to this beautiful angel. “Trust me, you’re not a burden. You will never be a burden to me, angel. In fact, this will make me more relaxed. By staying in my old place, I’m assured that your health is better compared to staying here.”

Jeonghan remained in thought for a few moments. “Well… alright, if you think it’s best,” he agreed with a sheepish smile.

“Mm, I know what’s best for you, sweet angel,” Seungcheol smiled, ruffling the younger’s blonde locks. “I’ll set everything up and you can move tomorrow afternoon. My driver will pick you up around four.”

Jeonghan’s disbelieving expression only softened Seungcheol’s heart. “I — I don’t know what to say, Mr. Choi.”

“Thank you?”

“Thank you doesn’t suffice.” Jeonghan’s smile grew to a blinding, gorgeous grin. “You’re amazing, Mr. Choi. You truly are.”

“You’re exaggerating, angel. I was simply giving a win-win solution for both of us,” Seungcheol humbly stated. He opened the door for Jeonghan through an automatic button, and as the younger stepped out, he questioned, “Besides, why would you live so far away from your campus in the first place?”

Jeonghan hesitated. He looked down on his feet, toying with his fingers, and stammered, “I-It’s the only apartment I could afford.”

Seungcheol’s heart sank. How preposterous. From now on, the incredible Yoon Jeonghan would get everything and anything Seungcheol could afford. The best place, the best food, the best clothes, and the best treatment from a boss who was spellbound by him.

And Yoon Jeonghan would get it soon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoa, i didn’t aim for the chapter to be this lengthy yet here we are! which length do you prefer, under or over 3k? do let me know and please share your thoughts in the comments! tysm i love you all ❤️


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaa i’m so sorry for the late update, i struggled in writing this ;A; but i’m making it up to you w this 5k jeongcheol goodness ❤️ enjoy!

By three thirty on Sunday afternoon, Jeonghan had neatly packed all of his belongings in six cardboard boxes stacked against the teal-colored wall. He had few possessions, so he didn’t bother asking anyone for help with the move. Still, he had called Mingyu and then Wonwoo to inform them of the big news — and ask many curious questions to the former — but neither picked up. He thought nothing of it, pocketed his cell phone, and settled on his bean bag, waiting for Seungcheol’s chauffeur to arrive.

By four sharp, a jet-black Ardoin car slid into view and pulled up in front of Jeonghan’s apartment building. After all the boxes were stored in the car’s trunk, Jeonghan claimed a spot on the back seat and restlessly shook his legs throughout the ride to the city center, his nerves flooded with excitement and his lips resisting a big smile.

He didn’t have high expectations. Seungcheol’s old apartment must’ve been aged and distasteful. Why else would he bestow it to Jeonghan so casually? No, it was the thrill of moving someplace else, of doing something out of the ordinary and so astray from what he had suspected of himself, that buoyed him. Yoon Jeonghan had always choreographed the moments of his life so rationally and painstakingly, ensuring the realization of his desired outcome, but this? This was way beyond what he could possibly imagine: being whisked to an unknown place and being infatuated with someone he had only known for a day.

What shocked him most was how much he _loved_ this recent, unfolding situation.

By five thirty, the car halted in front of an imposing grandiose structure. The chauffeur helped carry Jeonghan’s boxes and led him to his new abode, which was on the twenty-second floor. Jeonghan was about to inquire the apartment number when the elevator doors glide open to reveal a sprawling, minimalist-style penthouse, occupying the entirety of the building floor.

His jaw dropped open as he took hesitant steps into the foyer. Across the sparkling ivory tiles was an extensive glass wall that framed the sun lowering towards the Seoul skyline against a backdrop of pink and orange clouds. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in silver light which glittered on the dark marble surfaces of the tables and the curves of the peony-filled vases. Jeonghan’s feet took him around the space, and he noted with shock that there were two large bedrooms, each four times bigger than his cramped former apartment, one massive bathroom with a shower, a bathtub, _and_ a jacuzzi, and a completely furnished home office with mahogany desks and bookshelves.

He gulped. This was not what he had thought it would be.

One thing captured his attention most of all. On the king-sized bed of the first bedroom, a bouquet of red roses and a cream textured envelope were placed. Giddily, Jeonghan reached for the latter and read the paper contained within.

_Angel,_

_I hope you enjoy your new place. No need to pay for anything. I got it all covered. Call me the minute you see this. I want to know what you think of my old home._

_Enjoy the roses, too. I got the prettiest bouquet, but you remain as the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen._

_— Mr. Choi_

Below the note was a phone number. Blushing, Jeonghan threw himself on the bed sheets next to the bouquet, grabbed it and buried his nose in it, and unearthed his phone to dial his boss’ number. Within three rings, Seungcheol answered.

“Hello?” His voice was low, throaty, and Jeonghan melted.

“Mr. Choi, it’s Hannie!”

“Ah, angel!” he greeted, happily and loudly. “You’re at the penthouse already?”

“Yes, but sir, you didn’t tell me that it was a penthouse.” A frown appeared on Jeonghan’s lips. He still couldn’t register the colossal living space in his mind.

Seungcheol merely chuckled. “That’s just a surprise fact I want you to find out about. How do you like it?”

Jeonghan could hear rustling on the other line, as if Seungcheol were walking from one spot to another. He used the time to communicate his feelings into words, which was a great ordeal since he didn’t even know how he felt. “I like it, sir,” he began, “and I truly am grateful for you and for all of this, but… isn’t this too lavish for me? I mean, I’m just your assis — ”

“Hush,” ordered Seungcheol, and Jeonghan instantly stopped talking. “You deserve the best, angel. You just don’t see that. Consider this as a gift for being the best assistant I’ve ever had. Speaking of which, the penthouse isn’t the only gift I’ve got for you.”

A smile, one of relief, rose to Jeonghan’s lips. “Yes, thank you for the roses, Mr. Choi. I love it.”

Seungcheol laughed a little. “You’re welcome, but I wasn’t referring to the roses. Go take a look at the closet, angel.”

A weight abruptly settled in Jeonghan’s chest. He held his breath as he warily got up and padded towards a gray door, the only door in the room other than the main one. When he pushed it open, he saw more than just a closet. It was a walk-in closet.

It was half the size of the bedroom, but twice more replete. Each side of the wall was inlaid with tall, circular racks which spiral under the warm glow of unseen miniscule spotlights. These racks were brimming with clothes: jackets, coats dress shirts, tees, slacks, jeans, scarves, all fashionable, crisp, and pressed. In the center of the room, there was another spiraling rack which housed shoes and accessories — sunglasses, belts, necklaces, bracelets, headbands, wristwatches — which spanned many models and materials.

Taking his cue from Jeonghan’s audible gasp, Seungcheol explained, “I’ve had a designer friend of mine, Xu Minghao, ship every piece from his latest collection. I think my guess of your size was correct, but if anything doesn’t fit, I’ll ask him for the correct one right away.”

“Isn’t that,” Jeonghan murmured, “too much trouble?”

“Of course not, angel. Minghao and I are great friends, so he’s more than happy to help. Also, your butler should be coming there shortly. Have you eaten? He can cook you dinner. His specialty is the seven-spice roasted lamb and I’ve instructed him to make you that this evening. It’s divine. You’ll love it.”

Jeonghan wasn’t so sure about that.

He shut the closet door and returned to the bed. As Seungcheol babbled about all the other gifts he had gotten for him — a new and shiny MacBook, twenty-four-hour access to the building’s underground indoor swimming pool, a personal chauffeur and masseuse that could be contacted at any time of day — Jeonghan tuned out and stared blankly at the pillows.

Something terrible was at the pit of his stomach. He swallowed and his heart began to pound, surprising him with its intensity. It dawned on him that he was uncomfortable with this — highly, incredibly uncomfortable — and Seungcheol’s insouciant tattle was not helping in the slightest.

Jeonghan’s family lived a few towns away, in a modest two-story house with a small garden and a single old-model car parked in its medium-sized garage. Growing up, his parents taught him to be grateful of what he had since it was a result of constant hard work, to not get a second helping of food so that the entire family can eat well, to save money instead of spending it irresponsibly on unnecessary material things. He had been surrounded by living conditions that weren’t poor, but were not rich either. They were just enough.

When he had moved to Seoul for college, he became financially independent from his parents. They barely had enough to pay for his tuition fee. He didn’t want to burden them with the cost of being a Seoul student. It had been three years since he lived in one of the most prominent capitals in the world, but his lifestyle was, to say the most, paltry. He afforded his own accomodation by nearly slaving himself at the café, calculating his salary just so in order to survive a month at a time. He rarely ate fine meals or went shopping or cruised the streets in a taxi. He even cut his long hair short in his first year just to minimize the use of pricey hair care products.

But all of that he did with pride. His average salary, his risky diet, and his bland life were the result of constant hard work. They might not be fulfilling, but they were comfort. He reveled in the fact that he was able to sustain himself through his own endeavors, that despite the tough challenges and struggles, he was still alive to this day, with a roof over his head and food in his stomach and a sense of accomplishment in his heart. _He_ , Yoon Jeonghan, just himself, with no reliance on anybody else. He knew that in time, his trajectory would go upwards, but for now, he was perfectly content with existing through his own sweat and tears.

However, sitting on a king-sized bed in a luxurious penthouse in the fanciest area of the city, Jeonghan felt all the layers of glory and self-respect he had delicately amassed for himself for the past three years were expeditiously stripped away and discredited.

“Jeonghannie? Hello? Angel? Are you listening to me?”

The weight tripled; the pit of his stomach was ablaze with devastation. Everything consumed him at once: anger, guilt, disquiet, unworthiness, and — most of all, the loudest and most encompassing one — humiliation.

“I’m listening,” he lied. His voice cracked.

“I was just asking you what you think of it,” Seungcheol said, “but what happened? Are you okay?”

He couldn’t face Seungcheol. Not now. Perhaps not ever.

“I’m,” he started, but a sob cut the rest of his words. His shoulders quivered, his fingers trembled, and tears ran down his cheeks. Desperate cries left his mouth, but he provided no clear answer for a while. “I’m sorry. I’m s-sorry, Mr. Choi. I can’t. I can’t.”

Ignoring Seungcheol’s rapid-fire questions, he dropped the phone to his lap and allowed his lips to part for his short breaths and choked sobs of agony. He pulled his knees to his chest and rocked himself back and forth as he wept, the painful noise morphing to soundless howls. Perhaps it was right away, perhaps it took all night, but then he lost himself into a cold, unsettling sleep.

 

* * *

 

Jeonghan woke up with a great headache. His head was heavy, his nose was clogged, and his throat was dry. His limbs were rendered useless with exhaustion. He had no energy to budge from his spot on the bed. He slowly curled his fingers, and his heart beat instantly soared when they brushed against someone else’s.

Opening his eyes, he saw whom the fingers belonged to.

Seungcheol.

Jeonghan had to take a double look. He couldn’t believe his eyes, but after several times of furiously blinking, he registered that it was indeed Seungcheol. The older man was kneeling on the floor next to the bed, his hand stretched out across the sheets to grip Jeonghan’s, while his forehead was rested against the soft edge of the mattress, shielding his face from view. He wore a thick coat and slung a bag on his shoulders. There was a neon tag attached to the strap of the bag. The Incheon Airport logo was emblazoned on it.

Where did Seungcheol come from?

It took all of Jeonghan’s willpower to move his body. But before he could properly sit up, Seungcheol’s head shot up. His eyes were clouded, swollen, and anxious. His hair fell in front of them, but it was unable to conceal how haggard and drained his visage was. His thick lips were chapped and dark stubble covered his jaw and chin. Traces of tears were visible on the skin of his cheeks.

“Angel?” he croaked, leaning closer. “Hannie?”

Jeonghan blinked again. “M-Mr. Choi.” His voice was hoarse and barely audible.

“Angel, what happened?” Anguish was apparent in Seungcheol’s tone, and he tightened his grasp around Jeonghan’s fingers, immediate yet gentle. “You were crying on the phone. I was so worried. I came here as soon as I could, but you were asleep when I got here. Please, tell me what happened.”

Seungcheol’s thumb rubbed against Jeonghan’s palm in circles, and the younger man felt at ease. But, it was shattered when everything rushed back to him in a momentous avalanche, and he flinched. He wasn’t ready to talk about it. He couldn’t be ready. “You were from the airport? I didn’t k-know you were out of t-town.”

“I went to Macau to celebrate a friend’s birthday party. I was there when you called me. But then I heard you _crying_.” Seungcheol’s face tightened into a hurtful expression, one which Jeonghan would always remember. “I got on the jet right away and went here.”

“But,” Jeonghan whispered, “isn’t this place farther from the airport than yours?”

Seungcheol flashed him a rueful smile. “You didn’t think I was going to leave you alone, did you, angel?”

Jeonghan stayed quiet, trying to compose his swirling thoughts. “I’m sorry. You were supposed to have fun with your friends. I r-ruined it.”

“Angel, no.” Seungcheol shook his head adamantly. “You didn’t ruin anything. What matters now is you. Please, my angel, tell me what happened. Let me help you.” He laced their fingers together and gazed into Jeonghan’s eyes with such sheer distress. It compelled Jeonghan to speak.

“I… I was just having a hard time. About your gifts.”

Seungcheol slowly blinked. “My gifts?” he repeated uncertainly.

 _God, he’s not even aware of it_. Jeonghan nodded, looking down at their interlocked hands. Seungcheol remained silent, not pressing him for any explanation, patiently waiting for the younger man to open up. And he did.

“These are all… very nice gifts, Mr. Choi. I would have appreciated them if I could. But I can’t.” Tears were threatening to emerge from the corners of his eyes. His voice grew softer, fainter. “I feel… I feel so humiliated. T-The minute I saw the closet, it was just… horrible. Please don’t get me wrong, I know it’s your money, and you’re free to use it however you like it, but…” He sniffed, and the tears rolled out freely onto his cheeks.

“What upsets me is t-that you’re spending it on _me_. You got all of this for me, c-crazy expensive things that only some people can h-have. And it makes me wonder if… you think of me unworthy as I am. T-That you’re embarrassed I’m just a college student with n-no money and that you have t-to upgrade me to a rich b-boy just to deserve your attention.”

With that, Jeonghan broke apart.

The wave of shame crushed him in an instant. His body was reduced to a shaking mess, and he freed his hand from Seungcheol’s to cover his tear-drenched face with his palms. Sobs racked through him, more violently than before, and he felt so disgusted with himself, yet he didn’t want to feel this way, he knew he worked hard, he worked hard, didn’t he?

Seungcheol’s arms enveloped him. They were strong, snug, and hauled him to the older man’s chest. It was firm and sturdy and simply there. Without any conscious command of his own, Jeonghan sensed his cries softening, his limbs relaxing. He hadn’t been hugged in _such_ a long time. The feeling of Seungcheol’s embrace gave him the assuagement he desperately needed.

Then Seungcheol started to whisper things in his ear, sweet things, things that Jeonghan hadn’t heard for an even longer time.

“Oh, angel, my little angel, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. Let it out, sweetheart. Just let it all out. There you go. You’re okay, you’ll be okay, I promise, my darling. I’m here, I’m right here for you. God, my angel, I’m so so sorry.”

The loving pet names spoken in a low, reassuring voice, paired with the calming strokes on his back administered by Seungcheol’s calloused hand, did well to soothe Jeonghan. He heaved several deep breaths, welcoming the air into his cramped lungs. It felt good. It felt better, much better. He didn’t want Seungcheol to stop. He wanted him to continue all night long, just here, the two of them, tangled together. As he buried his face against Seungcheol’s warm chest and his body was swayed within the older man’s arms, he was increasingly more at ease with himself.

It might worked a little too well.

Slowly but surely, it inched him into dangerous territory, one that he had been purposely avoiding for years. Fear suddenly gripped him, a strike of pure cold amidst the welcome heat which was surging in his chest.  He couldn’t let his guard down, he couldn’t slip into subspace, not now. His mind rose into haywire, he couldn’t possibly —

But it felt so right.

Here, pressed against the weight of Seungcheol’s large and toned body, steadfast and reliable, encasing him with such warmness and ardor and affection, was the place Jeonghan had always dreamed of having. To have a self-assured caregiver who would drop everything just to guarantee the quality of his well-being and safety. And Seungcheol did exactly that, didn’t he? That made him qualified!

Jeonghan shook his head. If he slipped in, it would be difficult for him to get out. He had suppressed it ever since he came to Seoul, knowing full well that his innocence and vulnerability had no room in the unforgiving brutality of his life. But it was so near now, just a prod away, looming and beckoning him to surrender. If Seungcheol opened his mouth for another pet name to roll out his tongue, Jeonghan would be a goner.

“Angel, I’m so sorry,” Seungcheol apologized. “I didn’t know. I didn’t think — fuck, it was never my intention to make you feel that way. Never. Hurting you is the last thing I want to do.” He paused to caress Jeonghan’s soft locks, and the younger man whimpered. He was weak, he was slipping, he was submitting, his touch was _heavenly_.

“I got you all of this because I wanted to treat you. To show you that you deserve everything I am able to give you. You’re amazing, incredible, just the way you are.” Seungcheol paused again, this time to dive his fingers into Jeonghan’s hair and massage his scalp. “You are worthy of so many things, and I want you to know how much I appreciate you. How much I’m beginning to care about you. How I want to make you feel like the happiest person in the world.”

Jeonghan looked up at him, all puffy eyes and stained cheeks and skyrocketing heart beat. “You think I’m amazing?” he croaked. “You’re not ashamed of me?”

Seungcheol stared at him incredulously. “Angel, why would I be ashamed of you? I admire you so much. Maybe a bit too much for someone who only knows you for a day, but — ”

“Two days,” Jeonghan corrected meekly.

“Two days,” Seungcheol agreed with a chuckle. “But believe me when I say that you’re spectacular. That I’m dead serious about giving you everything.” He rubbed the top of Jeonghan’s head as he curved up a sad smile. “I’m sorry that you thought I was demeaning you. I would never dream of it. I’ll make it up to you. In fact, I’ll make it up right now. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better, sweetheart?”

Jeonghan’s heart stopped. This was an opening. The earnestness in Seungcheol’s tone convinced him that this was a safe place. He would be alright here. In Seungcheol’s arms, he would be more than alright. “Call me sweetheart again.”

Happiness sparked in Seungcheol’s eyes. It made Jeonghan’s heart flutter. “Sweetheart.”

“Call me darling.”

“Darling.”

“Angel.”

“Angel, my beautiful angel.” Seungcheol cupped his face and grazed his the pad of his thumb on his cheek, brushing the remains of the tears away.

Jeonghan sniffled, shaking his head a few times in disapproval. “I’m not beautiful.”

“You are, angel. You’re devastatingly beautiful.” The look on Seungcheol’s visage was full of adoration, and it made Jeonghan’s cheeks heat up.

“I just cried a lot…” He hid his face on Seungcheol’s chest, burrowing against his pecs and making a little pout.

“Yet you look perfect to me.”

Jeonghan shook his head. How could Choi Seungcheol exist? He was the perfect one, showering Jeonghan with so much attention. It drove him deeper into his subspace, and he felt a certain tingling through his limbs which accompanied the transition. “You’re so sweet, and I feel…”

He could hear a bit of dread in Seungcheol. “Feel what?”

Jeonghan didn’t have the bravery to admit his headspace. He couldn’t bear for Seungcheol’s terrible reaction. His heart wouldn’t be able to handle it. But, he still wanted to roughly convey how he was feeling. He owed the man that much. “Feel delicate right now.  I need to be with someone. I need to be with you. If not, I might go insane.”

“Insane?” Seungcheol questioned, but his arms tightened around Jeonghan. “I’m here, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jeonghan nodded. “Yes, insane. I can’t explain it, it’s just, I feel like a baby? And you’re caring for me, and — ” Realizing that he had talked too much, he quickly backtracked and withdrew himself from Seungcheol’s body. “I’m sorry, this must make you feel uncomfortable, I — ”

“Angel, don’t you dare leave my arms.” Seungcheol’s interjection and dark eyes were sharp, razorlike, and Jeonghan found himself automatically slithering back to his embrace.

“O-Okay. I don’t want to.”

“You tried to.”

Jeonghan rested one cheek on Seungcheol’s frame. “Only because I don’t know if this is alright with you,” he muttered.

Seungcheol’s hand went along Jeonghan’s back again, and he spoke evenly. “Should I make a longer speech about how much I care about you? Then you’d be convinced that having you in my arms is what I’ve been wanting.”

“You’ve been wanting this?” Jeonghan was surprised. He immediately glanced up at the older man, blinking. “Have you… have you been thinking of me?”

The smile plastered on Seungcheol’s face said it all. “Every time, angel.”

Jeonghan broke into a smile. He couldn’t believe it. Elation washed over him, and he turned giddy, his eyes lighting up as he balled his fists. “I have, too! I’ve been thinking of you like this, just hugging me, and playing with my hair.”

“Mhm?” Seungcheol ascended his hand back to Jeonghan’s locks, twirling the blonde strands with his finger. Jeonghan loved how deep and rumbling his voice was. “And what else, angel?”

“And you whispering sweet things to me like you did earlier. You tell me that I’m doing well, that I’m making you proud.”

“You always make me proud, angel. You’re so sweet, you’re doing well, so well, what a good job it is you’re doing.” Seungcheol’s hands made their way to his face again, squishing his cheeks and grinning broadly. “Such a good boy.”

Jeonghan’s breath hitched. “G-Good boy? I’m a good boy?”

“Mhm. You’re a good boy,” Seungcheol stated with such vehemence it astonished Jeonghan. “My good boy.”

Jeonghan lost it. He threw his arms around Seungcheol’s neck, climbing to his lap, nuzzling his face in his chest and laughing joyfully. “I’m your good boy, I like being your good boy! I’ll always be good for you!”

Seungcheol’s arms caught him, and he chuckled softly, cradling Jeonghan in his arms with expertise. His hands ran up and down Jeonghan’s back, and the younger man swore it was the best touch in the world, aside from when Seungcheol played with his hair. “Angel, you said you were feeling like a baby.”

“Mm. Like a little baby.” Jeonghan kept his face glued on Seungcheol’s shoulder, his voice muffled.

He softly inquired, “Are you, perhaps, possibly in subspace?”

Jeonghan’s heart dropped. He wanted the earth to swallow him alive. “Y-You — How — ” His cheeks flamed with embarrassment, and he rested his face deeper against Seungcheol.

The older man seemed to notice how he was responding, and he merely laughed and patted the small of Jeonghan’s back. “I just know. It isn’t my first time to be with someone in subspace.”

A frown appeared on Jeonghan’s face. He untucked himself from Seungcheol, placing some distance between them as he looked at the man in the eye. “You’ve had other babies?”

Seungcheol shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, several, but — ” Then his eyes widened and he scrambled to fix his mistake when he saw Jeonghan’s betrayed expression. “Fuck, what was I thinking? I’m sorry, angel, I’m sorry — ”

Jeonghan shook his head madly, trying to extricate himself from Seungcheol’s arms, his voice cracking as he attempted to contain his jealousy and sadness. “It’s fine, I knew I can’t compare to your babies — ”

Seungcheol shook his head as well, his arms trapping Jeonghan, not letting him budge an inch. “Angel, you defeat every baby I’ve ever had,” he said in seriousness, peering into his eyes with a gummy smile. “You’re so amazing. I repeat it, you’re so amazing.”

He leaned in and gave a tender kiss on Jeonghan’s forehead. It caused Jeonghan to laugh in glee, his hurt feelings soon forgotten. He wrapped his arms around Seungcheol’s neck again, and hummed as the older man said, “Let me take care of you, hm? I’ll go grab some warm water for you, your poor throat must be hurting.”

He loosened his grip and moved away from Jeonghan, and the latter instantly shrieked in panic. It was his turn to cage Seungcheol, albeit he thought it wasn’t the insistence of his limbs that changed Seungcheol’s mind; it was that of his ramble.

“No! No, please! Please, you can’t leave me alone, I can’t be left alone when I’m like this, I can’t — ”

“Ssh, baby, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, I’m here.” Seungcheol was back, his arms were around him again, his chest was against him again, his voice was in his ear, and Jeonghan managed a sigh of relief. “You’re safe with me now, I’m not going anywhere.”

“ — Please, please — ”

Seungcheol calmed him down with another flow of sweet words, his arms perpetually enclosed around Jeonghan’s slightly trembling figure. Jeonghan sensed himself growing more placid with every stroke of Seungcheol’s hand, and once he was settled quite comfortably, the older man proposed, “Why don’t you join me in the kitchen? We’ll be together, baby. Don’t worry.”

Jeonghan slowly nodded, whispering, “I like it when you call me baby.”

A chuckle was the reply. “Then that’s my go-to name for you from now on. Up you go.” He maneuvered Jeonghan to his lap, slid his arms underneath his thighs, and hoisted Jeonghan up until his legs were wound around his hips.

Seungcheol padded to the kitchen with Jeonghan in his arms. There, he prepared warm water with a thermos and poured the content into a mug. Jeonghan watched all of this with brimming adoration. Seungcheol was so gentle with him, so caring, unlike anybody he had ever met. He definitely didn’t deserve him. Seungcheol was the real angel between them.

When the water was ready, he gave the filled mug to Jeonghan, who drank it in one go. His throat was all good, no longer parched from too much crying. He handed the mug to Seungcheol when he was done, and draped himself over the man’s shoulder, sighing deeply. Seungcheol patted his back and rocked on his toes, muttering more praises in his ears which made Jeonghan’s cheeks heat up like never before.

“You really like it when I call you baby, don’t you?” asked Seungcheol when he noticed Jeonghan’s jubilant giggles whenever the name was used on him.

“Mhm. It feels nice, very nice.” He buried his face on Seungcheol’s shoulder, although he couldn’t stop smiling. “Should I call you something, too?”

“If you want to. What do you want to call me?”

Jeonghan already had an idea of what it was, but he whined instead when he comprehended how embarrassing it was. He couldn’t say that aloud, especially not in front of Seungcheol. “I can’t tell you. I’m too shy.”

Seungcheol only laughed. “Can I guess?”

Jeonghan was relieved. “Sure, go ahead.”

There was a beat of silence before Seungcheol broke it. “Mr. CEO the Great?”

Laughter escaped Jeonghan’s lips. He backed away to meet Seungcheol’s thoughtful expression. “Beep! Incorrect.”

Seungcheol cursed under his breath and tried again. “Mr. Handsome?”

Jeonghan shook his head, but he stored the name in his mind. He knew he’d use it someday. “Hint, it doesn’t start with Mr.”

Seungcheol furrowed his brows. “What does it start with?”

“No, no more hints!” rejected Jeonghan.

“Hm, so challenging.” Seungcheol’s gaze at Jeonghan was penetrating, but the younger man knew he was only trying to get to the right answer. “Is it my Dom?”

Jeonghan clicked his tongue. “No, but you’re getting warmer.”

Seungcheol feigned a dramatic sigh, looking upwards to the ceiling. “I wonder what can it be.”

Jeonghan scoffed and playfully hit him with his hand. “You know! You just won’t say it, too.”

Seungcheol maintained the direction of his eyesight, shaking his head. “Maybe I’m too shy,” he teased. “I can be shy, too.”

“No, you’re never shy!” whined Jeonghan, a pout present on his lips. “You’re always so confident and sure of yourself. It’s one of the things that makes you so attractive. How you carry yourself with so much certainty. How you are so mature and wise and just perfect.”

The spew of words was unexpected, and both of them were surprised. Jeonghan had no idea how the heartfelt confession just tumbled out of his mouth, while Seungcheol drew his gaze back to him and showed him a widening smile. Satisfaction was written all over his face, and suddenly Jeonghan was proud of himself for saying those words.

Seungcheol raised a brow. “That’s what makes me Daddy material, right?”

This caught Jeonghan off guard. He gulped, shocked that the older man had scored correctly. Confused on how to act due to his timidness, he looked down and nodded a bit. “Hng. Y-Yes.”

Seungcheol squeezed his waist lightly. “Did I hit jackpot?”

Jeonghan nodded more firmly. “Bingo.”

Emitting a cheer, Seungcheol gently urged Jeonghan to press his figure against his chest and shoulder, laying his head on the crook of his neck. Jeonghan complied with no effort — it was as if Seungcheol’s touch were magic to him. “Go to sleep, baby.”

Sleep didn’t sound so bad. He hummed as a response, allowing himself to feel secure and protected in Seungcheol’s arms. “Thank you for being with me,” Jeonghan paused, “Daddy.”

“You’re welcome,” Seungcheol spoke softly. His hand went up to Jeonghan’s hair again, as if he was aware how special the touch felt to Jeonghan. “Now rest. It’s so late, baby.”

“Promise me you’ll stay with me, Daddy?”

“I promise, baby.”

Jeonghan had the most blissful sleep he had had in years.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ASDFSKFJ DADDY CHEOL AND BABY HAN YAS
> 
> i definitely didn't expect the fic to progress like this, but i just followed the characters instead of focusing on the plot, and here is where they led.
> 
> comments are appreciated, as always! thank you so much guys, i love you all so much ❤️


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the late update asfkljdfsdj i’m a very slow writer ;;

Seungcheol was never a man of befuddlement. Even in the dim transitional moment between slumber and alertness, he had a strike of clarity each time he stirred awake: of who he was, where he was, and what his current situation was. In the wee hours of Monday, his first rational thought was as follows.

_I’m Choi Seungcheol, the stupidest man on the planet, hugging my personal assistant in my old bed, possibly losing any chance of a proper relationship with him._

Opening his eyes, he frowned at the complicated nature of the thought. It wasn’t a good way to start his day. Through heavy-lidded eyes, he descended his gaze to the figure nestled in his arms. Jeonghan was fast asleep, his chest heaving up and down in rhythmic constance. His blonde locks shaded his face in a messy tumble; his pink lips parted open ever so slightly. He looked pure and peaceful and perfect. Despite the horror of their situation, Seungcheol could never refute Jeonghan’s ethereal beauty.

Slowly, he removed Jeonghan’s arm which was draped across his midsection and rolled out the bed as noiselessly as he could. He couldn’t lie — he had a restful and satisfying sleep with Jeonghan in his arms. Late last night, he had set a snoozing Jeonghan down on one side of the bed and contemplated whether he should sleep in the other bedroom. But, he had known that he couldn’t bear to leave Jeonghan alone in his fragile subspace. What if he became hysteric again at Seungcheol’s absence? So, he had curled up next to him, keeping a good several inches between them, but over the night, they had unconsciously found their way to each other.

Seungcheol got to his feet, stretched, and flattened the wrinkles on his shirt. He hadn’t bothered changing out of his clothes, and his legs ached a bit from sleeping in a pair of jeans. Nonetheless, he willed them to move and guide him to the living room, while his hand carried his bag that he had carelessly left on the bedroom floor.

The living room’s edges were bordered with high glass walls that exhibited the majestic Seoul dawn. Seungcheol ignored the dramatic meldings of clouds in soft hues in favor of his trusted mobile phone. Once activated, it buzzed with dozens of missed calls from his friends, whom he had more or less neglected in Macau. Hoping that his friends were still on with their uproarious party, he dialed one of them who had called him a mere fifteen minutes ago. Boo Seungkwan answered on the fourth ring.

“Choi _fucking_ Seungcheol!” he screamed in rage. He was younger than Seungcheol, but his ruling American education made him averse to using honorifics — or being honorable. “How dare you left my party without saying goodbye!”

Seungcheol winced. He suspected he would get nothing less of a fierce reaction from his friend. “I’m sorry, Kwannie, but I left a message with one of your assistants. And I promise I’ll come to your birthday party next month.”

“You better! I’ll throw it in Seoul so that you’ll have no other chance but to come!” he shrieked.

Seungkwan was a chubby yet good-looking man, one with the permanent status of heir to a billion-dollar Internet app empire and round-the-clock spoiled diva. His actual birthday was in January, but being fabulously rich and notoriously self-absorbed, he held monthly birthday parties for the first half of every year. He had claimed that someone of his level deserved nothing short of extravagant celebrations.

“How’s the party going?” Seungcheol made useless small talk just to repair Seungkwan’s hurt feelings. He positioned himself in front of the glass wall and observed the city skyscrapers. “Is everyone still there? Have you run out of booze yet?”

“No! No distracting me from this pressing issue!” refused Seungkwan. “Hit me with the lame excuse. Work stuff, it must be. An urgent meeting? A car design deadline? A deal signing with an investor?”

Managing a small yet burdened smile, Seungcheol answered, “None of the above. Don’t know if you’ll believe it, but my personal assistant was crying.”

The silence on the other line was deafening. It lasted for five seconds before Seungkwan erupted. “Jisoo! Junnie! Hao! Emergency! Something hot is spilling!”

 _Leave it to Seungkwan for dramatization_ , Seungcheol thought as he rolled his eyes. He could hear rushing footsteps and panicked questions on the other line, then the voices became clearer once Seungkwan set his call to speaker mode.

“ — don’t understand, what emergency? Nothing is spilled, Seungkwan!” screeched Hong Jisoo, the highest-paid supermodel of South Korea who had been taking the world by storm due to his classic, delicate allure (which, Seungcheol testified, was a great match to his amiable personality).

“Yes, something is, and that is the _tea_ , Jisoo,” Seungkwan pointed out matter-of-factly. “Cheol went back to Seoul just because his personal assistant was crying!”

Now the questions were transformed to gasps of surprise and inquisitive demands. Wen Junhui, an internationally acclaimed and seasoned actor who was well-known and loved because of his unparalleled talents and charming good looks, was speaking louder than anyone else. “I knew it! Hao told me that you got the hots for him!”

Seungcheol groaned. He covered his face with his palm and said, “Hao? I swore you to secrecy. What’s your defense?”

Xu Minghao, a fashion designer who was a prominent figure in the world couture scene and ran three independent labels of clothes and accessories, sounded smug when he gave his answer. “Jun bribed me with a contract. He’ll wear my clothes for every public appearance he makes for a year.”

Seungcheol sighed. His friends were as devoted to one another as they were to money. He could still get back on him for it. “That’s what Jun already does every morning after you fuck him. It kinda gets you going though, right, Hao?” he quipped.

Minghao no longer sounded prideful. His tone was menacing. “Cheol, you little shit — ”

“I didn’t know you guys were _fucking!”_ Seungkwan wheezed.

“A secret for a secret,” Seungcheol boasted with a smirk.

“Guys, let’s focus on the original emergency here,” reminded Jisoo, and Seungcheol knew that the man was eyeing the other three pointedly as he spoke. “One potential boyfriend at a time.”

Before anyone could interrupt, Seungcheol launched into a detailed recount of who Jeonghan was and what happened last night. He related how he was enchanted the moment they first met, how talented and caring Jeonghan was, and the immediate chemistry between them. He related how his first instinct was to jump on his jet and be by Jeonghan’s side, fearful that the reason of his breakdown was because of the gifts Seungcheol had shown. Finally, he related how Jeonghan had gone into subspace and the consequential events.

“It was so sudden,” he reminisced. “I was taken aback, but I couldn’t possibly leave him be. When you’re in subspace, you need someone with you. Period. So I took care of him. I was a bit reluctant, but I did it anyway. It felt surreal. Like I was living a fantasy. I enjoyed it, perhaps too much. I got carried away. I said so many sweet things to him. In retrospect, I wouldn’t have said it so much. But…”

Jisoo continued the sentence that had been waiting on the tip of Seungcheol’s tongue. “But it’s been years since you last had a baby to take care of, or any kind of partner.”

“Yeah.” Seungcheol let out a bitter chuckle. He had always prided himself as a logical person with absolute unquestionable control over his emotions. His reception to matters and influences were always based on his intelligence, and he rarely allowed his feelings to sweep him off his unwavering resolution. But with Jeonghan, all of that was out of the window. “With the slightest bit of stimulation, I was back to my long-gone romantic self.”

“I think the same thing happened to him,” ventured Seungkwan. “You just don’t go into subspace around your boss unless you really couldn’t help it. Unless it was something you’d been trying to keep at bay. A little bit of stimulation too and it’d explode out.”

“Or unless you are the type of guy who goes into it when you’re sad and upset,” Junhui offered. “There’s a chance that he might not have been suppressing it. It just happened simply because he was upset. Cheol just happened to be there. Cheol had a baby like that, didn’t you, Cheol?”

Seungcheol hummed in agreement. One of his earlier baby girls didn’t have the emotional strength to face the burden she had. It made her shrink in avoidance of those horrible things and resort to a strategically timed subspace to forget all her worries and become problem-free and childlike. This, he recalled, was the challenge that ultimately ended their relationship. Was Jeonghan like that? Was he just an inexperienced youth with zero mastery of how to process his sorrow?

“Either way, there must be some trust involved,” Minghao contributed. “I think he wouldn’t go into it unless he trusted you to some degree.”

“Which means that he’s probably into Seungcheol,” Jisoo concluded.

Seungkwan snorted. “I think that’s pretty obvious, Jisoo.”

“Who wouldn’t be into the mighty Choi Seungcheol?” humored Minghao.

“Shut up, Hao.” Seungcheol stayed quiet for a moment, closing his eyes, before a sigh left his lips. This whole situation was beginning to dizzy him, but it didn’t alter his verdict about one thing. “But yeah, that’s exactly what I thought. Things are moving fast, way too fast for my liking. I want to put a stop to it. Jeonghan and I only met for a couple of times. I can’t have the prospect of a healthy relationship with him if we ran before we could walk.”

He was grateful to hear the murmurs of assent from his friends. As attracted as he was to Jeonghan, he didn’t want to dive headfirst into what they had going on between them. He was not ruling out his emotions entirely; he was merely letting rationale come in. Last night was just an unexpected lapse for both of them, and that was all.

“But I don’t think he knows that,” Junhui commented. “At least, based on his actions.”

“He’s only twenty years old,” responded Seungkwan. “No one’s mature at that age.”

“Just like the one who’s talking,” murmured Jisoo.

Thuds sounded out, followed by Jisoo’s cries of pain, and Seungcheol guessed that Seungkwan was hitting Jisoo with a pillow of sorts.

“If he trusts you,” Junhui picked up once Jisoo hushed, “He’s going to slip in again. He knows that you’re a dominant figure who accepts that side of him.”

“So if you want to put a stop to it, you should do it soon,” advised Minghao. “Or else your relationship fails before it even starts.”

“You should talk to him, but wait until he’s out of subspace,” Seungkwan said. “If not, you’ll crush him.”

Jisoo argued, “He’ll be crushed no matter what headspace he’s in. He’ll feel guilty. He’ll think that it’s his fault that Seungcheol wants to take a step back.”

“It isn’t his fault,” Seungcheol interjected.

“Or, he turns out to be absurdly obsessed with Seungcheol and forces him to be his permanent Dom,” guessed Seungkwan. “There’s a chance.”

Seungcheol bit his lips. Could Jeonghan possibly be a naive and vulnerable young man with a tendency to deprecate himself every time something went awry? Or could he be a manic opportunist who had the knack for putting on a brilliant facade? He didn’t know. He wanted to believe in any positive explanation about him, but he had no substantial evidence to back it up. It only emphasized how little he knew of Yoon Jeonghan.

“Only one way to find out,” Minghao said. “Talk to him, Cheol.”

The idea of confronting Jeonghan about this was, despite his strong will, distasteful. After seeing Jeonghan in his subspace, it only cemented the fact that Jeonghan was sensitive, highly so. But, he didn’t know for sure if it were only because of his subspace or not. What if he hurt his angel by trying to save them? He couldn’t bear the thought of it.

“Cheol, you’re thinking about him taking it badly, aren’t you?” Seungkwan asked, pulling him out of his consuming thoughts.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, composing himself. “I’m scared I’ll hurt him. That’s the last thing I want to do.”

“That’ll be better than you two rushing into an unstable relationship,” Junhui said. “At least there won’t be any damage.”

“The damage is us not having any relationship,” Seungcheol complained with a groan.

“There’s plenty of fish in the sea,” Seungkwan waved off.

Before Seungcheol could say anything, Minghao cut him to it. “No, I think this Jeonghan is different. Remember Seungcheol’s past sugar babies? It took him weeks for him to give them a simple gift. In Jeonghan’s case, it took him a day to give him a penthouse filled with my goddamn priceless clothes.”

“It may just be the years talking,” Jisoo reasoned, referring to Seungcheol’s lack of dating experience in a long time.

“Or the real feelings,” said Minghao. “Be careful, Cheol. You’re in it as bad as him. Backtrack while you’re still thinking now.”

“Daddy?”

Seungcheol quickly turned around. Junhui was talking in his ear, but he didn’t listen. His attention was solely focused on a sleepy Jeonghan, standing a few meters away from him with a blanket tightly wrapped around his lithe body, yawning in the cutest way possible and waving his hand at him to greet him good morning. Even with a disheveled bed-head and face bare of any makeup, Jeonghan was beautiful to him.

His heart melted at the sight. His worries were present in his mind, but they were soon lulled and tucked away to the back for the time being. Jeonghan wasn’t in need of a doubtful caregiver who was unsettled over the pace and technicalities of their relationship. He was in need of affection and protection from an unyielding man whom he could trust with his most defenseless parts. For the remainder of his subspace, Seungcheol would be that and only that.

“I have to go,” he announced to his friends, while his eyes were glued to Jeonghan. “Duty calls. I’ll update you guys later. Thanks for the help. I think I’ll be fine.”

His friends yelled last-minute warnings and recommendations, which he mentally noted before ending the call. He strode towards Jeonghan, who already had his arms open and clung himself immediately to the older man’s broad shoulders. Their warmths melded together, and Seungcheol felt as if the phone call he made never happened, as if everything in his life clicked into place all at once.

“G’morning, Daddy,” he croaked, burying his face against Seungcheol’s chest.

“Good morning, angel.” Seungcheol wound his arms around Jeonghan’s blanketed figure, reveling in how sweet his morning had begun. “How was your sleep? Did you have sweet dreams?”

“I had the best sleep ever, all thanks to Daddy.” Jeonghan let out a contented sigh as he rubbed his cheek against the fabric of Seungcheol’s shirt. “I didn’t dream much, though. But it’s okay since my reality is much better.”

A smile crept up to Seungcheol’s lips. “Because I’m in it?”

Jeonghan hummed in agreement. “Because you’re in it.”

“Well, the same goes for me.” His first instinct was to lean down and give Jeonghan a kiss on the forehead, but halfway there, he stopped himself. This was what he wanted to end. This was the catalyst of their rushed and potentially worsening dynamic. Biting his lips, he masked his dilemma by placing his chin atop Jeonghan’s head. “How are you feeling now, sweetheart?”

“Better, much better.” He tightened his hold around Seungcheol, who could hear the smile in his voice. Jeonghan then pulled away to look up at him, and Seungcheol now could see the gorgeous, illuminating smile which made his heart do somersaults. “Thank you for being here with me, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome, baby. I promised you I’d stay with you, didn’t I?” Seungcheol brushed his fingertip along Jeonghan’s jawline, and this time, he couldn’t resist the temptation to kiss his forehead, kiss him, just this once.

As his lips met Jeonghan’s skin, he softly whispered, “That’s a promise I intend to keep.”

No matter what the outcome would be, wonderful or terrible, whether Jeonghan eventually fell for him or despised him, he would stay with him. For as long as Jeonghan allowed him to.

 

* * *

 

Despite his convoluted thoughts, it was one of the best mornings Seungcheol had had in a long time. He spent the first few hours of daybreak hugging Jeonghan on the couch, which he had turned to face the glass wall. Jeonghan wrapped him in the blanket and they scooted closer to each other, talking and flirting and laughing. Jeonghan was back to his cheerful self, although he wasn’t out of his space yet. But it was alright. Seungcheol knew he couldn’t have everything at once.

“I think you should have the day off, angel,” he spoke as he massaged Jeonghan’s scalp with his fingertips. “You still have to unpack all your stuff. It’ll at least take half a day.” It was just a guise. He knew he couldn’t break the news to Jeonghan all at once in fear of mortifying him, so he hoped that by serving some tactfully placed gap between them, the intensity of the later blow would lessen.

Jeonghan greeted this suggestion with a pout. “But what about work? Baby wants to help Daddy at work!”

“You’ve already planned everything for today, haven’t you? That’s enough for me to work on. You just focus on getting settled in, hm?” Seungcheol’s chest instantly felt heavy with the reminiscence of his earlier mistake. He toyed with a lock of Jeonghan’s hair as he said despondently, “I’m sorry I offended you, baby. Please know that I never intended to do so.”

Jeonghan blinked and looked at him with such incomparable tenderness. “Daddy, it’s okay. I’m sorry too for reacting badly.” The softness of his tone matched the gentle smile on his lips. “I know you only want the best for me.”

Seungcheol nodded strongly. “Mm, I do know what’s best for you, sweetheart.” _And that includes knowing that we need to slow down and start afresh._ “While we’re on this topic, let me tell you that you can skip work for a day. Unpack. Rest. I’ll be fine.”

Hesitance was visible in Jeonghan’s expression, but at last he relented. “Well, if Daddy says so. Will I see you again later?” he asked with a hopeful note.

“Of course you will.” An idea emerged in Seungcheol’s mind and enthusiasm took over him. “Why don’t I visit you at the café this evening after I finish work?” He could see Jeonghan at a more casual setting, and if luck were on his side, he could communicate what he wanted to say to him.

He was glad that the same energy was displayed in Jeonghan’s features. “That’ll be great! It’s an amazing place. I hope you’ll love it, Daddy.”

“Can’t wait to see it and you later, baby.”

After giving Jeonghan one last tight hug which lasted for too long because Jeonghan refused to let go, Seungcheol left his old penthouse and headed to his own home for a change of clothes. Work was grueling and tiresome, but he still loved every minute of it. The only thing that was a bother was being plagued by the worries of how the evening would unfold. He couldn’t think of a better timing to discuss everything with Jeonghan, yet he wanted to delay it for another time if Jeonghan was still in his subspace. But how long could he himself last with this fear and suspense? How long could he tiptoe around Jeonghan and minimize their interactions without unintentionally losing him in the process?

By six, Seungcheol had finished everything for the day. He followed the directions to the café which Jeonghan had given him earlier. The place was cozy and warm, a terrific choice to shelter oneself from the remaining cold gusts of winter air. As he absorbed the pleasant surroundings, his legs guided him to the wooden counter at the center of the room.

Jeonghan was standing behind the register, in a crisp white shirt and a black apron tied behind his neck. His blonde hair was a bit ruffled because of his continuous switching between punching the cashier, scribbling orders onto plastic cups, and pouring blends of coffee and milk. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples, which he carelessly wiped with his sleeve. His eyes were sharp and attentive, but Seungcheol could detect something behind them: agitation and gloom.

Now that his entire focus was on Jeonghan, he observed tiny quirks in his movements and visage. Whenever he wasn’t interacting with a customer or a fellow worker, his lips would jut out and his eyes would emanate somberness. His body would navigate itself with grogginess and uncertainty, as if he were mulling over an unspeakable thing in his mind. He would sigh deeply every now and then, peeking at his wristwatch or at the front door through which people streamed in. It was in this moment that Seungcheol caught Jeonghan’s gaze.

The first evident reaction was his joy. Jeonghan’s eyes lit up and his lips formed that beautiful smile of his. But, to Seungcheol’s shock and dismay, it happened for less than a second. Suddenly, Jeonghan was consumed by his initial melancholy, as if he had not seen Seungcheol at all. In fact, he seemed more restless than before. He fidgeted as Seungcheol hurriedly approached the counter, a question bubbling on his tongue, but the younger man spoke first.

“Mr. Choi.” His voice was weak, trembling, and his attempt at another smile faltered so easily. “How can I help you?”

Seungcheol didn’t expect it, but Jeonghan’s return to his former name stung him. It was as if Jeonghan was involved in a giant effort to erase what had occurred between them before. “I came here to see you, angel. Are you alright? What happened? You don’t look well.”

Jeonghan stayed quiet, dropping his gaze to his fingers which were tangled together in front of him. “I… Please take a seat, Mr. Choi. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

The curtness and formality of Jeonghan’s words were a hurtful blow to Seungcheol. Here he was, preparing to share his views on the matter of their relationship, one that was heavy and agonizing to even think of, yet Jeonghan seemed to have gotten a head start. His air and saying had a note of finality to them, and Seungcheol’s heart thundered in dread once he thought that perhaps Jeonghan wanted to end this. Whatever intense yet fleeting thing they had. Robotically, he walked away and chose a table near a wide window, where he could watch the snow fall and gain a bit of calmness.

He remembered the vow he had made to himself that morning: He would stay with Jeonghan. No matter what. This infused him with newfound strength, which was scant, but present nonetheless. There was only one Yoon Jeonghan in the world, and he knew for sure that he was the person who deserved everything good there was, everything he could offer.

Jeonghan then emerged from a nearby door. Up close, he looked more gaunt and devastated. He was biting his lips and squeezing his fingers together, sitting down across Seungcheol while avoiding any eye contact. He dipped his head down until his chin touched his neck, causing his blonde strands to cover a good portion of his handsome yet bereaved face.

My God, would Seungcheol stay with him.

“Angel?” he cautiously began, fighting the urge to pull the younger man to his arms. “Hannie? What’s troubling you? Please tell me.”

Jeonghan’s shoulders rattled. Every second of silence was torment to Seungcheol. But he waited. He wanted to know what had driven his angel to such a state. He wanted this to be a safe space for him to talk.

“I — I’m sorry.”

Seungcheol’s heart stopped. This was not what he had thought Jeonghan would ever say.

“I’m s-sorry, Mr. Choi. I came out of my space earlier, and I want — I want to say how sorry I am. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have slipped. You’re my boss, and I’m your personal assistant. It wasn’t right, it shouldn’t have happened, and yet it did, and I’m sorry.”

Jeonghan’s body convulsed more, and his head hung closer to his chest, where Seungcheol was certain he was concealing his tears. His heart shattered with every broken utterance Jeonghan made.

“I feel so guilty… I can never forgive myself. But I hope y-you can. I’m so sorry, Mr. Choi.” Jeonghan took several deep breaths, as if he were bracing himself for his next words. “Y-You… made me feel safe. And protected. And cared about. And I’ve been suppressing my subspace before.  I guess that was why I slipped. But I should’ve controlled myself better. It wasn’t fair of me — my other me — to ask you to stay without even caring about you. I made you — fly all the way from Macau — I’m sorry, Mr. Choi. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

It felt like hell was swallowing him alive. Seeing Jeonghan, his angel, being wrecked like this was simple, pure pain. How could he think that it was all his fault? People in subspace had little to no influence over their state of mind. It was only natural for him to crave attention, affection, as much of them as possible. It was a given. It was not his fault, or anyone’s.

And then it came to him.

All of the suppositions his friends had made about this man vanished in an instant.

Of course, why else would Jeonghan be this way? Succumbing to his subspace the moment Seungcheol was there, and breaking down with shame in front of him for a momentary, warmhearted interaction which he considered a grief mistake?

Jeonghan had never been cared for.

This hit Seungcheol so severely he was nearly breathless. Hastily, he placed his open palms on the table, gazing at Jeonghan with despair. “Hannie, angel, my beautiful angel, please look at me.”

Jeonghan slowly did. His puffed, morose eyes were ringed with redness, while fresh and hot tears flooded his sunken cheeks. His bottom lip quivered as he voiced out again.

“M-Mr. Choi, I understand that y-you don’t want to see me anymore. I’ll find a replacement for myself, a-and submit a resignation letter as soon as — ”

“Jeonghan,” Seungcheol’s strong voice boomed. “Stop. Don’t even think about quitting.”

Jeonghan gulped, slightly lowering his gaze again. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Did you think I was going to let go of you?” he asked, a bit incredulous.

Jeonghan bit his lips. “Are you going to punish me f-first? For my mistake?”

Seungcheol was horribly stunned. His disbelief was building up, but he maintained his charitable words, which were what Jeonghan needed. “Angel… Please don’t think that way. Please. You did nothing wrong. There’s no need to be sorry.”

This snapped Jeonghan to attention. He raised his eyes to meet Seungcheol’s, the beginnings of confusion and wonder dancing in his orbs.

“I understand why you slipped,” he began gently, “and it’s not your fault. _Nothing_ is your fault, angel. You haven’t been taken care of before, am I right?”

Embarrassedly, Jeonghan nodded.

“Then it’s only logical for you to slip when you were for the first time. I’m telling you that it’s okay, no need to apologize, no need to blame yourself, because I’m okay with it. I’m okay with you slipping, and I don’t think that it was a mistake.”

It was the truth. Now that Seungcheol knew the reason, he couldn’t possibly hate Jeonghan for it. The younger man perked up a little, his lips starting to form a smile, one which Seungcheol adored. It gave him the needed push to keep talking.

“I enjoy what’s going on between us,” he continued, his voice more stable now. “I want to know what’s in store for us, where we are headed. I’m attracted to you, angel. There’s no secret about that. But, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to take it slow.”

The dark shadow reappeared on Jeonghan’s face again, much to Seungcheol’s alarm, and he sighed. “I’m sorry. I jeopardized that. If it weren’t for me, we would — ”

“No, angel, no,” Seungcheol interjected with a soft tone. “You didn’t jeopardize or ruin anything. I don’t think what happened last night was a mistake. I think it was a step in a good direction. I indeed would like to take it slow, but if subspace helps you and your mentality, if it improves your mental health, then I will be happy to help.”

Jeonghan blinked in surprise. He stared at Seungcheol for a long moment, and the older man resumed his sincere and heartfelt speech.

“I want you to have a safe space where you can have comfort. Suppressing your subspace isn’t good for you, angel. You need release from time to time. You haven’t had anyone to be that for you, but you have me now. And I’m willing to be the safe space that you need when those times come. I’ll care for you, protect you, and give you everything you need to feel better.”

 _Yes_ , his mind was telling him. _Yes, this is the balance that we need. Mindful progress in our relationship, but a steady and welcoming presence whenever we need a healthy escape_. The more he ran through it, the more positive he was that he and Jeonghan could work with it.

Jeonghan finally came out of his trance, speaking ever so gradually. “You would… do that for me?”

A smile took over Seungcheol’s lips. “As long as it’s for you, I will do anything.”

Then, Jeonghan woke up from his tribulation. It was a glorious sight to see.

His eyes crinkled and brightened with euphoria. His nose scrunched cutely as his lips parted for a broad, grateful smile. The weight was departing as the reassurance set in, leaving him merry and unknotted and free. The tears were still visible, but he brushed them away with his fingertips nonchalantly before leaning in and resting his palms in Seungcheol’s own.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you. I’m so thankful that I met you.”

Seungcheol, relieved to see that Jeonghan was feeling better, connected their fingers together tightly. “I am, too. Thank you for coming into my life and showing me what happiness is.”

“I’m your happiness?” Jeonghan’s smile elevated.

“You are, and I would love to get to know my happiness more.” Seungcheol stroked the inside of Jeonghan’s palm with his fingertips. It felt divine to touch him this way, to be linked through something as trivial as hand-holding. It signified how uncomplicated their romance was about to unfurl. “When your shift ends, perhaps we can have coffee together?”

He thought it was impossible for Jeonghan’s smile to get any wider, but it did.  “Yes. Yes, of course. You’re so amazing.”

Seungcheol burst into laughter. He was amazed at how pleasantly unexpected Jeonghan was.  “I am not, angel.”

“No, you are!” Jeonghan said giddily. “You’re full-blown amazing. You know what, every time you get coffee here, it’s going to be on me.”

A brow was raised on Seungcheol’s part. “Uh huh. Angel, you’re aware that I drink a _lot_ of coffee.”

Jeonghan was still as excited as ever at the prospect he’d just offered. “Mhm!”

“A whole lot. Especially when I know that you work here.”

“Yes, I’m aware, Mr. Choi!”

“So, take no offense, angel, but where will you get the money to cover it all?”

Jeonghan’s whole expression was jubilant and innocent. “From you, of course! I’ll get one for you right now!”

He released their hands and clambered up from his seat. Seungcheol watched with a chuckle, and as his eyes followed Jeonghan’s now spirited motion behind the counter, he could not contain the grin which split his lips and the fast-paced heartbeat inside his chest.

They would be alright. He would care for Jeonghan, Jeonghan would care for him, and they would stay together, filling  each other’s imperfections and completing what they were lacking. They were mere two flawed, love-deprived people, but what they weren’t deprived of was chance, and Choi Seungcheol was not going to fuck that up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay! please let me know your thoughts in the comments below~ feedback is incredibly appreciated! the next chapter is going to be their lil date and probably written in seungcheol’s standpoint again. please look forward to it!
> 
> also if you want to talk to me personally, you can find me at @httpnoir on twitter! thank youuu ❤️


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry for the months-long wait for the update! ; A ; enjoy!!

Jeonghan was accustomed to seeing nameless, gabbling people bundled up in their jackets and coats fill the plush seats of the cafe. Now, he was faced with an unusual yet immensely pleasant sight: Choi Seungcheol, his boss, quiet and composed, sipping on a cup of steaming black coffee, settled at a table near the window. His posture was straight and rigid, but the features of his face displayed calmness and relaxation. He occasionally darted his gaze out the window, studying the people walking back and forth with the slightest hint of a smile on his red-tinted lips. Despite how at ease he seemed, his commanding persona was still evident. Everyone’s attention were on him, entranced by his good looks and addicted to seeing how absolute and reassured his movements were, even if it were just savoring his coffee, or gliding his fingers on his phone screen, or leaning back and sighing in contentment.

Jeonghan was no exception. Every now and then, he sneaked a glance towards Seungcheol, who frequently presented him with a gummy smile in return. It made Jeonghan’s face flush, and he immediately returned to his work, nervous and disoriented, and in every chance he managed to make a fool out of himself right after: spilling a bit of coffee on his arm, pressing the wrong button on the register and making it beep loudly, or bumping into one of his colleagues and losing his balance.

Still, those idiotic moments succeeded in making Seungcheol laugh, and that was what made Jeonghan happy, so it was worth it.

How he was feeling now — light, exalted, optimistic — was a total contrast to how he was earlier that day. On the way to class, he had slipped out of his space in increments, and the crushing weight of his mistake and stupidity overwhelmed him during the lecture. Unable to bear everything on his quivering shoulders, he turned to Wonwoo for help. He revealed everything to his best friend, with stammers and hesitance and fear, but without any alterations or censorship to the story. If the situation were different, he wouldn’t have confided about it to Wonwoo. But when it involved Choi Seungcheol, things were never normal.

Wonwoo was extremely helpful and grudgingly enlightening. He highlighted the age difference between them, being in the opinion that it was the factor which destroyed the prospects of their relationship. “I’m a believer of love surpassing all ages, but in this case, you two might be mismatched,” he stated. “He has way more experience in love and romance, and most likely a more advanced mindset and emotional stability. While you?”

“I have nothing,” complained Jeonghan in exasperation.

“Exactly.” Wonwoo nodded firmly. “You’ve never fallen for somebody, let alone dated anybody. At times, you let your emotions control you, not vice versa. Like what happened last night between you and him.”

Jeonghan sighed. “It was a moment of weakness. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I know I can change and be better.”

“Easier said than done,” grumbled Wonwoo. “But yes, you can change, Han. Just start small.”

Jeonghan raised a brow in curiosity. “How?”

Wonwoo faced him, his expression serene. “By doing more of what we’re doing now. Talking about your problems, your worries. Not keeping everything inside. We’ve been friends for a long time, but we rarely have a heart-to-heart talk like this.”

This astonished Jeonghan. It slowly dawned on him that what Wonwoo was saying was true. When was the last time he had a shoulder to lean on? Or more precisely, when was the last time he _let_ himself have a shoulder to lean on? Why couldn’t he remember? The endless questions swirling in his head were a sign that led him to a paralyzing, eye-opening conclusion: He had suppressed everything inside. Everything, all of his woes and worries, all of his fears and insecurities, hoping that by neglecting it, it would vanish on its own. But it didn’t. Instead it festered within him, growing bigger and more powerful and more uncontainable, until it exploded at what was possibly the worst time.

“I think,” Wonwoo continued, “what happened last night was how your mind was telling you that you need someone. Not necessarily a romantic interest, but someone to depend on, someone you can share your burdens with. It can even be more than one person. Either way, your mind was telling you that it needed release, which you’ve been rejecting.”

With the truth laid bare in front of him, Jeonghan had not even the slimmest opportunity to argue. All this time, he had unconsciously considered his subspace to be his form of release: He could forget about the insistent affairs of real life, the troubles he experienced and the duties he bore, in exchange for fleeting moments of wonder, innocence, and purity of a child. It was an instance where he could put an ephemeral yet definite barrier between him and reality for a sickeningly sweet fantasy. However, no matter how excellent and chimerical it was, it wasn’t a form of release. It was merely shoving his problems to one side and abandoning them there without any resolve or solution. It was him purposely neglecting the unpleasant parts of his life. It was, actually, a form of escape.

Knowing this, he didn’t know if he could handle ever going to subspace again. It terrified him that he would repeat the same mistake and hurt even more people in the process. Until he could learn how to face his emotions like how he was supposed to do, he could only see disaster coming from slipping in.

His immaturity and lack of experience also made him doubtful of pursuing this chance with Seungcheol. The outcome would most likely be dreadful, with him being the cause. Their differences might be just too fatal to settle. They were from different worlds, at different stages in their lives, and perhaps life was just playing a cruel and mischievous joke by making their paths cross. Yet at the same time, he knew that he couldn’t just let Seungcheol go.

Not when Seungcheol had done so much for him in such a short span of time — a high-end apartment, endless affectionate words, comforting warmth, long-lasting security, a promised safe space for him. Not when Seungcheol had treated him with nothing but compassion and kindness. Not when he had realized that Seungcheol was much, much more than meets the eye — an altruist man with good intentions, an open and progressive mind, and a tender heart. Not when he knew that Seungcheol, the outrageously superior Choi Seungcheol, was attracted to him. Not when he knew he was Choi Seungcheol’s happiness.

He had been waiting for happiness. Now that it was here, it was difficult to give himself permission to continue.

Wonwoo gave him the push he needed.

“I know I may come across to hate this relationship between you and your boss,” he had said, his tone soft and his smile gentle, “but I want you to be happy, Han. That’s all I want for you. If he gives you happiness, then fucking go for it. Don’t leave, don’t let him go.”

He wouldn’t let Seungcheol go.

 

* * *

 

When his shift ended, Jeonghan immediately tossed his apron into his locker, grabbed his belongings, and practically ran to Seungcheol’s table. Once he arrived, he could take in the sight of the other man more clearly. He detected the retraction of his shoulders, the subtle tilt of his head, the delight and amusement in his expression upon seeing his ebullience — things which escaped his sight when he was meters away, tucked behind the counter. Things that made his heart beat instantly pick up, that made his cheeks flush a bit, and then he realized that it was Seungcheol’s mere presence, his confident and collected manner, that made him weak all over.

“I’m sorry for making you wait so long, Mr. Choi,” he said through subtle pants for air, his eyes freely roaming over the other man’s visage. “Are you — enjoying your coffee?”

“It’s okay, angel. Please sit down,” Seungcheol said. His deep voice did wonders to Jeonghan’s knees, and he settled down on the empty chair in an awkward, ungraceful flounder, just in time to hear his next words. “And yes, I am. You really do make the best coffee.”

A joyful smile bloomed on Jeonghan’s lips. He had always loved being praised, no matter how insignificant it might be. “Thank you, Mr. Choi,” he whispered, too shy and nervous to speak up, before he gathered courage in a snap of a moment and raised his voice. “Will you stop by here often, then?”

Seungcheol’s lips curved up into a blinding, merry smile. “I will stop by wherever you are. Here, or your place, or even your desk at the office. Anything to get your coffee, and to see your pretty face.”

Jeonghan’s cheeks went a shade darker, and he immediately glanced to his lap and fiddled with his fingers in nervousness. “You don’t have to try so hard, Mr. Choi. I’ll just go to you whenever I can and give you as much coffee as possible.”

A chuckle ran out of Seungcheol’s lips, and Jeonghan wished he could bottle that sound and listen to it forever. “You’re making it real easy for me, angel.”

He knew it was a simple jest, but for a split second, a wave of dread overwhelmed him and an apology ran from his lips before he had any ideas to stop it. “I’m sorry, Mr. Choi,” his voice trembled, yet his eyes daringly met the other’s, eyes that communicated his regret. “I knew you wanted to take things slow. I’m sorry.”

Seungcheol’s thick brows furrowed in immediate concern, and he reached out for Jeonghan’s hand, his calloused skin meeting the soft one, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Angel, please don’t be sorry,” he said, his voice full of kindness, his eyes full of understanding. “I already said you didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, I should be the one who’s sorry for making you cry last night.” He then let out a long sigh, his gaze downcast. “It was despicable of me.”

No matter how much Jeonghan loved the feel of the older’s hand wrapped around his, how their fingers seemed to perfectly fit together, he could not focus on it, not when Seungcheol looked so troubled and hateful of himself. “No, no, Mr. Choi, it’s alright,” he said, hasty yet gentle. “It’s really alright. You didn’t know. At that time, I thought… you only cared about money and wealth, but I was stupid to think like that in the first place.” To amplify the impression of his intention, he tangled their fingers together, tight and snug, and a soft smile appeared on his lips. “You’ve been nothing but kind and caring to me.”

Under his touch and sincerity, he could feel Seungcheol thaw. The older slowly lifted his gaze, now warm and bursting with adoration, and his dimpled smile — the one Jeonghan oh so loved — returned to its place. “I just treat you the way you deserve to be treated, angel,” he said. “I hope that this doesn’t make you think that I care less about you. In fact, I do this because I care about you more.”

It hit Jeonghan as a surprise, and it escalated his heartbeat, and he tried his best to keep his voice steady. “What do you mean, Mr. Choi?”

Seungcheol remained quiet for a moment, his gaze stray, and then he concentrated on the younger again. “I haven’t been in a lot of relationships,” he stated slowly. “Most of them fizzled before they could make meaningful progress. I wasn’t a great person in them or for my partner back then. It was terrible, and I don’t want it to happen with you.” His tone became gentler, his smile became brighter. “You’re incredible, Hannie. The last thing I want is to ruin the chance I have with you.”

Jeonghan’s heart soared. Never, not once in his life, did he feel so wanted and cared for. Seungcheol was able to induce this pleasant, happy, good feeling in just seconds, with his velvet words and warm round eyes and all the affection he possessed. He squeezed their locked hands with joy and daringly leaned forward. “Thank you for telling me that, Mr. Choi. Sure, we’ll take baby steps. Even being here with you is already a privilege for me. I’m thankful to have you.”

It was as if a large weight had been lifted off Seungcheol’s shoulders. His spine straightened, his chest leaned forward. The hesitance and insecurity withered away, the poise and resoluteness returned. “So am I, angel.” His voice, now full and definite and known, was a comfort to Jeonghan’s ears. “So, your shift is over?”

Jeonghan nodded excitedly, thinking of the wonderful promise of the evening. “Mhm! I’m yours for the rest of the night.”

Seungcheol made a luminous smile. “And for as many days possible, I hope.”

Jeonghan gasped and squeezed their hands again with a pout. “Mr. Choi, stop it!”

A laugh came out of Seungcheol’s lips, and he commented, “Look at that, you’re turning into a tomato.”

Only then did Jeonghan realize that his cheeks were heating up again, and he made a whine as he covered his face with his palms. “Shush! This is so embarrassing…”

“No, it’s okay. You look cute,” Seungcheol said earnestly. “In fact, red is my favorite color.”

Jeonghan blinked, interested in this little tidbit. “It is? Why?”

Seungcheol thought for a moment, the ends of his lips quirking upwards. “Reminds me of a lot of good things. The toy train I had when I was growing up, my favorite skateboard, my passport holder, roses, all of them are red.” Nostalgia clouded his face, his eyes glittering with reminiscence, and it was entrancing for Jeonghan to see him in such a mild, softened state. “What about you? What’s your favorite color?”

It took Jeonghan a quick beat to answer. “Blue. Not dark blue, but a soft blue, like the color of the sky on a sunny day. It makes me feel a lot calmer.”

Seungcheol nodded approvingly. “That’s a great color, too. Weren’t you wearing that blue the first time we met?”

Jeonghan’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe how easily the older man impressed him with every word he uttered. “Yes! How do you remember it?”

Seungcheol gave a good-humored chuckle. “Our first meeting is something I think about often. That’s when I first caught a glimpse of an angel.”

Jeonghan drastically rolled his eyes and huffed. “You need to stop calling me angel, because you’re the angel here!” he insisted, swinging their hands together. “You’ve given me almost everything. I don’t know how you treat other people, but I have a feeling it’s similar.”

Solemnly, Seungcheol nodded. “Ah, yes. I do give all of my employees a high-end apartment when I first see them,” he jested.

“Snobby!” the younger man said, although he laughed afterwards. “I know you’re that rich.”

“Practically rolling in money.”

“Have you always wanted to be that rich?”

The question seemed to surprise Seungcheol, as if no one had ever asked him that before. His brows knitted together, his nose scrunched. “No. I wanted something different when I grew up.”

“Oh! Your childhood dream job! Can I guess what it is?” Jeonghan bombarded in excitement. In his mind, there entered a picture of small, five-year-old Seungcheol, lying down on his stomach, scribbling his future dream job on a piece of paper with colorful pens in little fists.

With a chuckle, Seungcheol agreed. “Sure thing, darling.”

After staring at the older man for a while — not to possibly decipher any clues from his handsome features, but to admire every inch of him — Jeonghan made an entirely random guess. “Firefighter?”

It was Seungcheol’s turn to have his jaw dropped. “How did you know?”

Jeonghan’s eyes twinkled and he cheered happily. “Lucky guess! I thought that since firefighters are all red, they must be worth a shot.”

Seungcheol shook his head in disbelief. “Bingo. I did want to be a firefighter, though the red thing didn’t play much part in it.” He met Jeonghan’s eyes with a certain fire blazing in his own, momentary yet extreme. “It seems like the toughest job, risking your life every day, being swallowed in flames.”

“You’re already so hot, though,” Jeonghan idly blurted out.

Seungcheol merely smirked, and panic induced Jeonghan to backtrack rapidly. “I mean — nevermind! So, uhm, why didn’t you pursue firefighting?”

Luckily, Seungcheol did not pursue the embarrassing matter and answered the question, albeit in a regretful tone. “My parents didn’t want me to. What was your dream job, angel?”

Jeonghan made a small pout. “That’s sad… A florist. My aunt is a gardener and has a flower shop.” Abruptly, his memories of the shop resurfaced: its baby-pink walls, its constant smell of vanilla and lavender, its hanging orchids and burgeoning roses, and his aunt, her warm hugs and delectable cookies and the fine, pretty lines on her face. “I used to help her out all the time. I wanted to open my own shop and make bouquets all day.”

Seungcheol seemed delighted at the idea. “I can just picture you in a flower shop, surrounded by the most exquisite flowers. But your beauty triumphs theirs.”

With a groan, Jeonghan leaned his head back and spoke in a warning tone. “Mr. Choi…”

“Alright, alright,” Seungcheol conceded, raising his free hand in an act of surrender. “Forgive me, seeing you makes me want to praise you all day.”

“I don’t mind being praised, though,” Jeonghan clarified, though he tried not stare into Seungcheol’s eyes afterwards. “It just… makes me shy.”

He could feel Seungcheol putting on that smirk of his, and it caused his heart to race. “What else makes you shy?”

Jeonghan fervently shook his head, this time looking into the older man’s eyes. “I’m not telling you! You’re just going to use it to your advantage!”

Seungcheol sighed in exaggeration. “Tsk, fine. I guess I’ll have to settle on just praising you. Which isn’t hard, since you’re terrific.”

All of the praises affected Jeonghan in more heart flutters and trembling fingers than ever, but if it continued, he would totally combust. “Mr. Choi, I’m not — ”

“Don’t deny it, Hannie. Seriously, you are.” Apparently, Seungcheol thought differently and was insistent in killing him with his saccharine words. He cradled Jeonghan’s hand with both of his own, his elbows placed on the wooden table, the distance between them closer and closer. “You’ve done marvelous so far as my personal assistant. I haven’t had a single assistant who’s so proactive and dedicated to their job before. It impresses me how talented and smart you are.”

Every part of Jeonghan stopped functioning. He sat there, frozen, with his eyes wide with glee and his smile broad with adoration, wondering what on earth made him deserve this feeling, this expansion of warmth and joy and pride in the most splendid way possible, to wash over him. “Hng.”

Seungcheol’s lips went upwards, and he gave a gentle squeeze to Jeonghan’s hand, oblivious to how exquisite Jeonghan was feeling. “Let me guess, you must be the star student, right? High GPA, straight As, plenty of awards?”

Jeonghan shrugged a bit, the blatant recitation of his achievements making him more timid than before. “I just want to work hard,” he said in a small voice.

“You have, and you’ve done so well.” The proud look on Seungcheol’s face was something that Jeonghan would never, ever forget. It gave him so much hope, so much encouragement, and at that moment he knew, that only Seungcheol’s approval mattered to him. “Do you love studying that much?”

“Mhm! I want to be a good teacher someday. Maybe have my own school, or an orphanage.” He paused, only to smile merrily. “Kids make me happy. Just seeing them smile, laugh, learn, ask questions… makes me feel really great. I want to be with them at all times if I can.”

Seungcheol nodded in understanding, with a similar smile on his lips. “Have you tried getting a job that involves kids? It may be more satisfying than just making coffee.”

Jeonghan hummed. “I have, and I’ve gotten accepted to some daycares, but the schedule wasn’t that flexible. Kids need round-the-clock watching. I can’t fit that into my daily agenda.”

Comfortingly, Seungcheol patted the back of his hand. “It’s okay, darling. The sooner you get your degree, the sooner you’ll be able to work with kids full time. Just one year left, yes?”

“Mm, just one year left,” he confirmed optimistically. It didn’t seem too far away, especially when he had Seungcheol supporting him. “Are there any tips about getting a degree that you can give me, Mr. Choi? Considering that you graduated from one of the best schools in the country.”

Seungcheol thought for a moment. “Manage your time well, give it your all in every assignment, always listen to what the professors say, and don’t get a boyfriend that’s in the same class as you. It’ll distract you.”

Laughter escaped Jeonghan’s lips, and he teased, “What about a boyfriend from work?”

With a serious expression, Seungcheol nodded. “That’s better. You work short hours, after all. Less time to be distracted.”

“But I want to spend more time with you.”

The expression transformed into one of fondness, and Seungcheol said confidently, “We have enough time now, angel. Just you and me.”

They spent the rest of the evening chatting, smiling, holding hands, getting to know every little thing they could possibly know about each other. Seungcheol told Jeonghan about his secret collection of every Marvel comic book ever published. Jeonghan shared to Seungcheol about his odd habit of tucking his hair behind his ear whenever he was lying. Seungcheol wanted to ride a Harley cross-country when he had the chance, and Jeonghan wanted his parents to be the proudest on his graduation day. What they had in common was reading novels, eating chocolate chip cookies, hating raisins and clams, loving kids and Queen and horror movies, and liking each other very much.

When the other employees began to lift the chairs to the tables, Seungcheol offered to drive Jeonghan home. As much as he wanted to say yes, Jeonghan declined because he knew that he would only drag Seungcheol inside the apartment if the latter so much as stare on his door. He promised to take things slow, and he would never betray it. He would never let himself spiral out of control again just as before. Seungcheol pouted cutely at his rejection, but Jeonghan promised him that they would see each other tomorrow, and they could catch up and hold hands then.

After a light squeeze of the hand in lieu of goodbye, they parted ways. Seungcheol zoomed off in his Ardoin, while Jeonghan strolled to his apartment building, arms swinging on his sides in excitement and lips smiling in giddiness. He had never felt this way: this thrill, this adrenaline of first love and adventures and mysteries, the unknown realm of knowing another person so greatly and intimately, the drifting touches and the thrown grins and the fast-paced drumming of his heart in his chest. The impulsivity and unpredictability of it all invigorated him. It was an intense opposite of his rational and entirely calculated ventures in life. This… this was new, this was strange, and this was welcome.

 _Perhaps I can live this way_ , he thought to himself as he entered his new apartment. Live completely in the moment, with no regard to well-made decisions or best opportunities to take or the most advantageous choices on the table. Just him, his heart, and Choi Seungcheol.

It sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, hello! i am back! i'm sorry for abandoning this story for months ;; i'm on summer break so i can finally focus on it! i hope you guys enjoyed the chapter; please leave some feedback in the comments and let me know what you think! thank you and stay brilliant ❤️


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